Tamblin Demosthene and the Empty Places
by Tlalcopan
Summary: The fifth Tamblin story. Rage and loss threaten the narrow ground, friendships and families are torn apart, and Tamblin is asked to break into a place where no one wants to go.
1. Chapter 1

**Tamblin Demosthene and the Empty Places**

 _Continued from Tamblin Demosthene and the Narrow Ground_

The door to the Demosthene mansion had exploded inward under the impact of several simultaneous Reducto spells. Tamblin and Cascata had been knocked down and Tamblin's leg had been cut badly by flying shrapnel. Before either could get back to their feet Cascata pointed at the open doorway.

"Death Eater!" she screamed.

Tamblin looked and saw the dark shape of a heavyset man framed by the bright summer day outside. Backlit as he was, it was impossible to see the man's face, but a tilt of the head made it clear he was looking down at the two children on the floor before him. As the Death Eater started to raise his wand a bright blue beam struck him in the chest. There was a ghastly smell of cooking meat and the man fell backwards out of the house. Tamblin glanced up at Karkaroff, where he still stood at the top of the stairs. The man was clearly terrified, but his help had given Tamblin and Cascata a chance to recover.

Two spells arced through the open doorway to explode on the stairway next to Karkaroff. Tamblin couldn't see the Death Eaters who had launched them from his angle down on the floor. He scrambled to his feet and Cascata helped him when she saw he was wounded.

The bloodwand was somehow in his hand, though he had no memory of reaching for it. Cascata had her wand out too. Tamblin sent several stunning spells through the open doorway. He couldn't see anyone to hit but he needed to try and keep their heads down.

"Study," he yelled at her and pointed with his free hand.

She ran toward the door and Tamblin hobbled backwards to follow her, still trying to throw too many spells through the doorway for the Death Eaters to follow. Walking on his leg was making the wound bleed a lot faster and he was feeling faint. His mind flicked through a quick calculation. If he died Cascata could still survive. If she died he'd lose his anchor- a fate worse than death. He grimaced and continued walking back toward the study as quickly as he could manage.

Karkaroff tried to come down the stairs but many more spells exploded around him. The Death Eaters had him pinned down. Tamblin looked frantically for some way to help him. He couldn't fight off the Death Eaters alone, he could barely stand at the moment. He couldn't keep them from firing on Karkaroff from where he was.

"Igor, jump!"

There was no answer.

"You have to jump down here. The study. You have to get to the study!"

Tamblin screamed at the man but got no reply. A Death Eater poked his head in the doorway and Tamblin fell down as he tried to dodge the spell. He sent back another stunner and was glad to hear the man collapse as it hit.

The problem was that he wasn't sure he could stand back up.

But he didn't have to. He'd made it to the study door and he felt Cascata grab his shoulders and pull him through. She was so diminutive that it took her a while and when she tried to slam the door shut a large hairy hand had thrust through. The hand had long black talons on the end of it. Tamblin's vision was getting cloudy, but he fumbled at the desk drawer. As he found what he wanted the hand shoved the door open and Cascata was knocked aside like a doll.

Tamblin threw the Amphisbaen through the doorway. The homunculi's twin snake heads latched onto the monstrosity on the other side and the thing fell back yowling. Cascata slammed the door closed again. Tamblin leaned against the desk and pulled with his remaining strength on the sextant. The sextant allowed the study to move between various Demosthene holdings. He turned it from the paired wavy lines that represented the mansion to a symbol that looked like three interlinked circles. Then he collapsed on the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

"Tamblin… Tamblin, wake up. You have to stay awake. You can't sleep. Come on, I need your help."

Tamblin opened his eyes just a fraction. Cascata had one hand pressing on the cut on his leg to try and stop the bleeding. Her other was lightly slapping his face in a way he was sure he'd resent when he felt up to it.

"Come on, Tamblin. You don't get to get out of this like that."

Tamblin pointed weakly at the desk.

"First aid… kit…"

Cascata placed one of Tamblin's hands on his leg and tried to get him to take over staunching the blood. Then she tore the desk apart until she found the small satchel with a few potions in it. These she quickly inventoried until she found what she wanted.

She brought over three vials. The first she poured over the wound and it sealed up almost immediately.

"That vial of phoenix tears probably cost as more than most families make in a year, didn't it?"

Tamblin tried to smile.

"Are you saying it was a bad investment?" He asked weakly.

The second vial she forced Tamblin to drink. Had he had more strength they might have had quite a fight about that, as it was the most rancid tasting thing he could imagine. Cascata watched him carefully and seemed pleased.

"Your color looks a little better. You were getting very pale, even for you."

She handed him the third potion and told him to carefully only take half. He drank half of it and handed it back.

"Why half?"

"The rest is for me," she said and drained it. "Calming draught."

Tamblin managed to sit up. He felt still weak but he didn't think he was going to pass out again.

"What do we do now," Cascata said.

"I have to get you back to Hogwarts."

"But how?"

"I have the means," Tamblin said. The look on his face was not one of relief.


	3. Chapter 3

"Where are we, Tamblin?" Cascata asked as he opened the study door and revealed a small, well appointed, but antiquated looking barn.

Tamblin didn't answer. He led her through the barn door. Cascata looked around her in obvious amazement. They were in a pleasant green valley surrounded by mountain peaks that were equally impressive and menacing. They looked like the world's teeth. There was what appeared to be a small farmhouse, the small barn they had just exited from and then a short squat structure that looked as if someone had tried to cross a stable and a fortification. It was made up of planks that were massive and held together by what appeared to be more like railroad spikes than anything that could reasonably be called a nail. The structure looked like it could withstand a good sized Giant attack with only the vaguest annoyance or discomfort. And yet the entire thing shuddered with incredible violence every few minutes. The giant boards showed obvious stress and some cracks were clear to see.

Cascata turned back to Tamblin. "What is this? Tell me."

Tamblin had a guilty look.

"You cannot speak of this to anyone. That is vitally important. No one can know of where this is or how to get here. Are we clear on that?"

"Okay, yeah. What is this about?"

"We made a mistake. The Demosthenes did. It's our responsibility to contain it."

"Contain what?"

"We bred something… evil. It was an experiment at Durmstrang. We call them the Nihus-oni. It was an attempt to breed a very specific trait…"

"And it failed," Cascata said.

"No. It worked. The problem is that the complications weren't worth it. _And they won't die._ "

Cascata shivered at his tone of voice.

"These things are as close to pure malignant evil as I can possibly imagine. We bred twelve of them six hundred years ago. We can't kill them; all we can do is hold them."

"Why are we here?" she said in a voice that suggested the calming draught wasn't potent enough.

"Because they can take us to Hogwarts in no time. Listen to me; we are going to have to use these things to get home. We can do it, as long as we follow the instructions exactly. Do what I tell you and you'll be fine. I promise."

She looked at the building as it shuddered again and again. Her voice took on a pleading, plaintive tone that was almost whining.

"I don't want to. Look, we can walk to a road and take a cab back to London. They won't expect us to be using muggle ways."

"We aren't in England, Cascata! Look around you, does England have any mountain ranges like these? I'm sorry, I don't mean to yell at you. Look...these things scare me too, and I don't want to do this anymore than you do, but neither of us can apparate, we have no access to a floo network, and I'm not sure if we can count on the Death Eaters not figuring out the study's magic and subverting it. Even if we had brooms neither of us has ever flown that kind of long distance and we have to get back to Hogwarts _now_ if we want any hope of stopping them from taking Karkaroff."

Cascata looked like she was trying to think of a counterargument and dismayed at her lack of success.

"Okay. What do we do?"

Just then a mangy-looking goblin came out of the small farmhouse.

"What are you doing- oh, it's you. Well what do you want?"

"Good morning, Ambernanthy-"

"Does it look good to you? You don't have to slop the troughs, now do you? Maybe you'd like to do my job before you declare it a good morning, my lord."

"Pleasant as always," Tamblin said through gritted teeth. "We have need of two of the Nihus-oni. You have the bridles?"

"Of course I have the bridles. I've been at this job since before your father was suckled. You think to tell me my duty?"

"Then get two of them, and the… preparations"

"I'd love to drop everything I was doing on this fine morning-"

"Do. It. Now," Tamblin said in a dangerous voice. The goblin looked startled at this and bustled off to get whatever he needed to get.


	4. Chapter 4

As they approached the barn they passed near to a tree with a barrel next to it. Cascata stared at the tree with curiosity.

"I didn't think pomegranates grew in this kind of climate," she said speculatively.

"They don't."

The barrel was three quarters full of some deep red liquid.

"Tamblin, is that what I think it is?" she said pointing at the barrel.

"It's blood. It's not human, no."

Cascata looked like she was going to be sick.

"The tree is fertilized with…"

"Yes."

Ambernanthy appeared holding a long stick that had an odd fork-like device on the end. In his other hand he carried two bits, which appeared to be made of a golden substance, with a simple loop of golden rope attached. He approached the tree and, paying Tamblin and Cascata no attention at all, he picked a pomegranate that was on a low hanging branch.

They followed the goblin as he made his way into the fortified stable. The door he opened was massive and reminded Cascata of the doors into the entrance hall at Hogwarts. These were just as wide and thick but nowhere near as high. Inside the stable was dark except for a few dim yellow lamps.

"The dark helps. Light irritates them," Tamblin said in a whisper.

On each side of the Stable were six huge paddocks. These were again made of enormously reinforced heavy wooden construction. The interiors of the paddocks were too gloomy to let Cascata make out the things within. Unlike a normal horse pen these paddocks were built all the way up to the ceiling. There was a square hole cut in each paddock door down near waist height.

Cascata suddenly gripped Tamblin's arm and pointed to the end of the stable. One of the doors there stood open.

"It's okay, there's nothing in that one."

"You said your family bred twelve. There's only eleven here…"

Tamblin gave her a look.

"It got away?"

"Centuries ago."

Just then one of the stalls near the end shuddered as something massive or incredibly strong threw itself against the door. There was a wide open space between the two rows of stalls and all three of them stayed carefully near the center. Ambernanthy approached an old simple wooden table against the back wall. If Cascata noticed the table had a deep brownish red stain she said nothing.

The goblin cut open the pomegranate and every stall, except the empty one, shuddered at once. Cascata cringed against Tamblin, who was staring at the twelfth, empty, pen. The goblin took a number of deep red seeds and crushed them against one of the golden bits. Cascata noticed that the bit had deep tooth marks in it. Ambernanthy then fixed the bit on the end of the prongs of the long-handled tool. He used the long handle to move the bit next to the square hole in the door of one of the pens. There was a rustling in the pen. And then with the speed of a snake, a grotesque head snapped forward and drove long fangs deep into the bit. A thin saw-edged tongue moved to find every bit of red juice on the bit. Meanwhile the head seemed to be struggling to let go of it. The thing might have looked like a horse if a horse had had all of its skin peeled off. Raw muscle tissue glistened a pale red. The teeth were all wrong for a horse though. They were long, sharp, and needle like. Not the teeth of a plant eater. The eyes too were all wrong. Instead of the large dark eyes of an innocent horse, the Nihus-oni had dull yellowish-white orbs that showed no pupil. The beast radiated hatred. The pure unmitigated hatred of the creature stunned Tamblin, attuned as he was to attention. This thing hated him, hated Cascata, hated Ambernanthy, and hated the other Nihus-oni. It even hated itself.

With great care Ambernanthy moved forward. He still held the pole in one hand. The other reached out to take hold of the golden rope that connected to both ends of the bit as a rein. When he had it in grasp he detached the prongs from the bit.

Tamblin moved forward, careful to skirt the other pens, and took the rein from Ambernanthy's hand.

He looked at Cascata, who seemed to be expecting the beast to tear him apart at any moment.

"The magic of the bridles prevents them from harming others so long as it is held. We'll each ride one. You must keep hold of your bridle at all times. The thing may try to frighten you, but it cannot harm you so long as you hold the bridle. Do you understand?"

"Why don't I just ride that one with you?" she asked.

"You'll need the bridle to hold onto; you'd fall off of this one. Believe me, I wouldn't put you through this if I didn't have to. Remember the bridle. Hold on to it and everything will be fine. Don't let go."

Ambernanthy was already preparing the next bridle. When he finished he threw the remaining pomegranate pieces into the nearest pen. Cascata winced at the crunching sounds as the beast within fed. He snared a second beast the same way as the first. Once he had hold of the rein he motioned to Cascata. She looked to Tamblin and he nodded encouragingly.

Quietly, as if she was trying to sneak up on the thing that glared at her, she moved up getting only as close to the thing as she had to in order to get a hand on the rein. Ambernanthy stepped back and Cascata looked terrified of the creature that was only prevented from hurting her by a slender golden rope.

"Just don't let go and you'll be fine," Tamblin said. "I'll lead the way, yours will follow mine, so you don't need to steer or anything. In fact once you get on just hold on and close your eyes."

"That sounds swell," Cascata said in a thin voice.

"All ready," Ambernanthy said. He waved his hands and the two stall doors split in half vertically along an invisible seam. The mass of the Nihus-oni loomed up over them.


	5. Chapter 5

The Nihus-oni's feet had a central hoof and then a clawed toed on each side. Tamblin's beast was a wide bodied male while Cascata's was much smaller but also male. Ambernanthy made sure to point this out as he carefully helped each of them to an uncomfortable seat on the back of the massive beasts.

Tamblin leaned forward to whisper in the beast's ear. Getting so close to its head was hard. He'd seen drawings of what the one that had escaped had done to its rider when the man had momentarily let go of the bridle. He could feel the beast tensing its neck and willing itself to let go of the bridle. It wanted so badly to hurt him and it hated the bridle so much. But it couldn't resist the smell of that juice. It had to bite, and having bitten it was trapped unless Tamblin gave up control.

Tamblin looked back at Cascata. She'd wound the rein around one wrist and was then holding it with both hands that were white knuckled.

"Just hold on. And close your eyes."

Tamblin looked forward again. He kicked the Nihus-oni and it launched itself forward. He didn't try to guide it with the rein; the beast knew where to go and it had to obey. Besides it was far too strong for him to be able to turn its head on his own.

Tamblin's steed burst out of the barn and ran straight for the tree. Tamblin could tell from Cascata's squeal that hers was following fast. He took a deep breath to get ready for this next part. The Nihus-oni leapt powerfully into the air and came crashing head first into the barrel of horse blood that fertilized the tree. The barrel was in no way big enough to contain the beast, but instead of breaking through it they plunged through the surface and into someplace new.


	6. Chapter 6

The Nihus-oni rode on a thin stream of red liquid that seemed suspended in infinite space. The pathway split and resplit hundreds of times. The beast picked each path unerringly. If he'd been capable of looking back Tamblin knew he'd see Cascata's steed right behind. But he felt that looking anywhere but straight ahead meant risking falling off. Now and then he saw various landmarks in that place, but they were too horrible to speak of and Tamblin tried to ignore them.

The Nihus-oni rode on and on through the branching pathways of blood.


	7. Chapter 7

The path they had been following came to an end and the beast crashed back into the real world. Tamblin looked around; the beast was inside the Artiste's Alcove. There was not much room for it in the alcove, a problem that became much worse as the second Nihus-oni arrived bearing Cascata.

The two of them tried to rear and pressed against each other angrily. Cascata suddenly screamed. Tamblin looked over. She had an expression of great pain on her face but she kept hold of the bridle with a death grip. Tamblin slipped off of his mount and was immediately crushed against one of the blank walls as the beasts shoved back and forth. He had the air knocked out of him. Gasping he took the bridle and tied it in a knot and then let go.

The Nihus-oni reared up as far as the ceiling would allow and then crashed back down, but it seemed to pass through the floor in a spray of blood and was gone. The room was still crowded but there was no longer a strong risk of getting crushed by the beasts. Cascata clung to her rein and was whispering something to herself.

Tamblin reached up to help her down and when she felt his touch she screamed.

"It's okay. Don't let go. I'll help you down." He was able to pick her up off the back of the creature. He could hear she was whispering "don't let go" over and over again like a prayer. As he set her down on the ground she screamed again, this time in pain. She started to collapse and Tamblin caught her. She had taken one hand off the rein and he desperately grabbed it before she could let go with the other. She kind of slid down his body onto the floor.

Quickly he tied the rein in a knot. The magic of the bridle would force it now to return to the stable. The beast plunged through the floor like its brother, again splattering them with blood that seemed to have no source.

Tamblin looked at Cascata. Her ankle was an ugly purple color.

"When the things were pressing against each other I felt it break," she said in obvious pain. Then she broke down in sobs.

Tamblin hugged her.

"You didn't let go. You did great. You held on, and didn't let go."


	8. Chapter 8

Tamblin helped Cascata limp to the Infirmary. He was trying to move as quickly as possible without causing her further harm. The time on the Nihus-oni had seemed long but it was deceptive. They'd probably only been away from Demosthene Mansion for half an hour.

"Tamblin… ow… what was that place… where we were?"

"I thought you were going to keep your eyes closed."

"Sometimes not seeing what's coming is more scary than seeing it."

"This wasn't one of those times," Tamblin said.

"No… it wasn't… but I didn't know that until I looked."

Tamblin was silent a minute.

"It's called the Murdermarche. In its way it's one of the more powerful transportation means. Unblockable by any magic. Problem is it's hard to access. We bred the Nihus-oni to make a creature that could get to it and that could be ridden. It's dark _dark_ magic, Cascata. Maybe the worst magic there is."

"I don't understand."

"It connects every murder site. Everywhere in the world. There were those who killed people just to create a new connection, and the few ways that existed to enter and leave the Murdermarche, before the Nihus-oni, involved human sacrifice."

"Who died in the Alcove?"

"Phausto. That's where he was murdered. He told me once."

"Those things in there then… in the Murdermarche…"

"Representations of the murders that occurred nearby. Landmarks of death, symbols of massacres. The things we do here in life don't just affect us, they affect the whole world and places beyond the world."

"That's why you can't catch the twelfth one; it can go anywhere and you can't follow."

"Once it escaped we were never going to get it back. The horror gets too big to stuff back in the box."

They reached the infirmary. As it was summer Madam Pomfrey was not around.

"I have to go talk to Dumbledore; will you be okay here by yourself? I'll have him send help for you."

Cascata was already raiding the cabinets for something to help the pain.

"Go. I'll be okay. Wait. Tamblin, don't go back to the mansion."

"Why?"

"You can't help Karkaroff."

Tamblin looked at her for a minute.

"I have to try. I won't go alone."


	9. Chapter 9

Tamblin burst into Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster looked up at him with great concern and Tamblin realized that his clothes were splattered with blood, much but not all of it of it his own.

"Death Eater attack… Karkaroff… needs help… Cascata… broken ankle… infirmary…" Tamblin panted and leaned forward with his hands on his thighs.

Dumbledore stood up quickly. Addressing one of the portraits that lined his wall he said "Find Madam Pomfrey; she may be in the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. There is an accommodating portrait of a goat in makeup there that may let you use her frame. Tell Madame Pomfrey a student is injured and in the infirmary."

Tamblin was still catching his breath.

"Now Tamblin, where was this attack?"

"My mansion. I'm going with you."

"It may not be safe," Dumbledore said.

"They invaded my home, I'm going," Tamblin said with as much finality as he could muster.

Dumbledore considered for a moment.

"Very well, but if the Death Eaters remain I must ask you to use your talent to hide."

"Agreed."

They made their way quickly out of the castle and down the road past the gates. Once there Dumbledore took Tamblin's hand and they both disappeared.

They stood an instant later on the Demosthene lawn, wands drawn.

"Oh, Tamblin, I'm sorry," Dumbledore said as they faced the mansion. Flames billowed from every window and the entire structure was being rapidly consumed. The mansion was proof against any normal fire. These were green and clearly magical.

"Vlora…"


	10. Chapter 10

It took many hours before the flames burnt themselves out. Once they were out, though, the heat from them dissipated instantly, letting Tamblin walk through the ashes of his home. There were only a few walls still left and those were half eaten away. The only part of the mansion not damaged were the walls and door to the study, which remained impervious to the fire due to the magic that moved the room through space. The hearth wasn't completely destroyed although the bas relief figures were significantly melted and shapeless now. Sifting through the ashes Tamblin found the Amphisbaen. The figurine had cracked under the heat stress, or maybe the Death Eaters had broken it before setting the fire. One head flicked a tongue out at him weakly but that was all.

It was sunset when Kingsley Shacklebolt arrived, Apparating on the front lawn. Dumbledore had long since departed when it became clear that Karkaroff was either dead or long since spirited away. Tamblin had insisted that he didn't need anything. He just wanted time alone.

"Tamblin…" Shacklebolt said when he found him ankle-deep in ashes in the south end of the house. He didn't seem to know what to say.

"This was the library. Hundreds of books. Many dozens of them irreplaceable family histories and genealogies. Utterly irreplaceable," Tamblin said as he opened his hands and a cloud of blackened powder fell from them.

"You should go back to Hogwarts. You need some sleep, and a chance to grieve."

Tamblin looked at the tall black Auror.

"I told my house elf to hide when the Death Eaters came. She couldn't leave the mansion and disobey me. The Death Eaters took Karkaroff whom I had promised asylum. They destroyed countless family treasures and a wealth of history that was beyond any price. _Grieving will wait._ However if you wanted to be of help you could take me back to the school. I do have a lot to do."

Tamblin walked on the ashen remains of his life that was.


	11. Chapter 11

Back at Hogwarts Tamblin waited at the edge of the school. It was nearly midnight. He was beyond exhausted. But he'd sent out a host of owls when Shacklebolt had brought him back and the messages should be getting through soon.

As if on queue a number of wizards, mostly dressed in muggle suits, started to appear. Eventually there were twelve of them and Tamblin cleared his throat.

"Thank you for coming, I apologize for the lateness of this meeting. You are most likely not aware as of yet but there was an incident earlier today and Demosthene Mansion was destroyed. This was a deliberate attack and not an accident. The attack was perpetrated by Death Eaters."

At this there was some murmuring amongst the wizards.

"I know the Prophet has spent considerable time mocking those who have made the claim that Voldemort has returned. I don't know if he has or not, frankly, but the continuing existence of the Death Eaters is not in doubt. Their attack on the Quidditch World Cup last year is evidence of that."

Tamblin took a breath, more to try and keep control of the raging violence within him than to clear his head.

"As representatives of my solicitors, accountants, and investors you have only one job from now until I say differently; you are to unearth every business, home, investment, and property that belongs to a Death Eater. Find all of it and then ruin them. _Thoroughly_. We'll make a profit where we can but if we have to lose money to bankrupt them then do it."

One of the solicitors stepped forward.

"But, Master Demosthene, all the known Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban and their assets seized."

"Those were the ones caught. There are plenty who are known, or suspected, but walked free. I want their families begging for scraps of food by the end of the month. Find everyone who has worked for them or does work for them, buy out their leases, evict them onto the streets. Find every business they make money on and sink it. Burn them to the ground if you have to. I don't care about legal, I don't care about humane, and I don't care about moral. Get. It. Done."

Tamblin considered for a moment.

"One exception. For the moment don't touch the Nott estates. Catalog what they have and come up with contingencies to deplete them but don't take any action as of yet. Are there any questions?"

There weren't any that anyone was willing to ask him in his current mood. Tamblin realized he had his fists clenched and he had to concentrate to get them to release. He made his way back to the castle after the others Disapparated. He hadn't had a chance to see Cascata since leaving her at the infirmary. He stopped by there to see if she was still in but she must have gone back to the Hufflepuff common room. He blearily climbed to the Ravenclaw dorms and collapsed.


	12. Chapter 12

He woke up screaming from a nightmare that was gone the instant he opened his eyes. It was well after sunrise. He went down to get some breakfast in the Great Hall. It felt like there was a constant loud hum in his head, and he realized after a time that that noise was his anger.

While he was eating, Cascata appeared in the Great Hall as well. She walked a little stiffly but clearly the ankle had been tended to. She sat down opposite Tamblin at the Ravenclaw table. With school out there was no one to make them stand on formalities. She eyed him carefully.

"Are you okay?"

Tamblin nodded.

"Were you able to find Karkaroff?"

He shook his head.

"The mansion was destroyed," Tamblin said quietly.

Cascata's mouth opened in surprise. Then she gasped at a new thought as the news really sank in.

"Vlora?"

Tamblin shook his head again.

Tears were welling up in Cascata's eyes and Tamblin marveled at them because he felt nothing. Nothing but the buzzing anger.

Just then a large brown owl swept down onto the table. It was followed by a number of other owls and they began to queue up to be relieved of their packages.

Cascata tried to untie a letter but the bird bit her.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, confidential mail. You better let me get them," Tamblin said.

As he suspected they were a series of initial reports regarding the campaign to ruin the Death Eaters. Most of them were reports identifying various assets that were held by those strongly suspected of being Death Eaters. A solicitor had appended a list of those they had strong cause to believe had been involved in the past and might be involved in the future. Tactfully they had left Tamblin's family off the list. He did notice the Nott name (along with a note saying they were for the time being not to be harassed) and the name Severus Snape. Tamblin penned a quick note saying that Snape should also be spared. The man was rather cruel but, according to the elder Nott and Karkaroff, he had betrayed the Death Eaters. In a few cases they had already put together action plans against certain properties. Tamblin went through these and made small notes or just signed off on them.

Cascata was looking over his shoulder now.

"What is all this."

Tamblin looked at her with a deadly seriousness. "You get your wish. All my resources are bent to the destruction of the Death Eaters."

Cascata looked puzzled.

"Really? Well, that's…um… I mean that's great. Isn't it?" She seemed very unsure.

Tamblin spoke more to himself than to answer her question.

"The narrow ground is lost. Now there is only the war." He went back to reviewing the reports.

Cascata watched him for a while and then left. Tamblin didn't notice.


	13. Chapter 13

Dumbledore asked Tamblin to stop by his office as summer was reaching a close. Tamblin had been expecting this. He knocked on the griffin knocker and entered the room.

"Ah, Tamblin," Dumbledore said, as if there was anyone else it could reasonably have been.

"Professor, I have urgent business; can we make this quick?"

"Actually that's one of the matters I had hoped to discuss. You've been spending every day in the Great Hall receiving and sending a large number of owls. While students are certainly permitted to make use of the school owls, and to answer such owls as bring them mail, it will be disruptive to have so many occupying so much of the Ravenclaw table."

"I understand, Headmaster, and I am making preparations to limit the amount of personal involvement my project needs once the school year starts. I suspect no more than one or two owls a day."

"Your project would be the other matter we should discuss…"

"You still want to recruit me," Tamblin said bluntly. He found he had no patience for coy games at the moment.

"I believe we all have a common enemy, Tamblin, one that requires that we all work together."

"No. The Death Eaters have successfully pushed me away from neutrality, but this is _my_ war on them. Not yours. And as a piece of advice, for the ministry, I'm in no mood for their interference. Fudge was worried that I was threatening him third year. I wasn't then. Now I am. They get in my way at their own peril."

"I think you'll find I have very little influence with the Ministry these days, Tamblin."

"You do with the people who matter. Let them know."


	14. Chapter 14

The other students arrived and the castle hallways were suddenly full of noise again. Tamblin barely noticed the sorting ceremony as he worked out the last of his instructions for continuing to put pressure on the Death Eaters during the coming school year. He did see the girls briefly after the feast and made a point to greet them both but his head was so crammed with reports and plans that he was sure he must have seemed distant. He hoped they would chalk it up to his usual manner.

Susan's hair was long now but neither Cacata nor Hannah mentioned that she clearly had used an elongating charm on it, so Tamblin supposed it would be rude to point out. She had chosen to wear it in the form of a long braided plait.

Hannah meanwhile looked much the same but seemed to be puffing her chest out a bit. After a moment Tamblin noticed she had a prefect's badge stitched to her robe.

"You made prefect, Hannah? Congratulations," Tamblin said, pointing at the badge.

Hannah smiled and touched it self-consciously.

"Thanks. I really wasn't expecting it. Came as a total shock when it showed up." She frowned suddenly. "Didn't you get the letter I sent?"

Cascata and Susan were giving him hard looks.

"I'm sorry Hannah, it slipped my mind," Tamblin hedged. "Things have been rather chaotic…"

"Why weren't you on the train?" Susan asked with a surprising amount of concern in her voice.

Tamblin looked down at the ground. It wasn't a topic he felt he could discuss in such intimate company without breaking down. Anger couldn't sustain him here. Their eyes would reflect only sympathy and that would touch some feeling part inside himself.

Cascata rescued him.

"I'll tell you about it later, okay," she said, as she put a hand protectively on Tamblin's back.

Susana and Hannah looked concerned but they both nodded.

Tamblin glanced at Susan's chest but didn't see a badge there.

"Who is the other Hufflepuff prefect in our year?" Tablin asked.

"Ernie," Hannah said at once and then kind of winced. She glanced over at Susan who looked like she was a heroic effort to be good humored.

Her eyes locked on Tamblin's and he had one strange moment where he knew exactly what she felt, where it almost seemed that he _was_ her and was feeling it himself. As suddenly as it happened it passed and Tamblin shook his head.

"I'm sorry, I'm a little worn out," he said. "I'd better get some rest before classes tomorrow."

"All right, goodnight Tamblin," Susan said, before adding, "Hannah, don't you need to help show the first years where to go?"

Hannah sort of yelped.

"You're right! Goodnight, Tamblin, see you tomorrow," She called brightly just before running off. Susan followed behind, much more subdued.

Tamblin watched them go and then turned to Cascata.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yeah, just feel… a little odd."

"I've hardly seen you this last month. I thought being together at the castle we'd… I mean I understand you have a lot on your mind at the moment. I just don't want you to shut me out." She hesitated. "Things will get better, right? Like how they were last year?"

Tamblin remembered there being a lot of excitement last year as their relationship had really blossomed, and a lot of kissing. Now it seemed like something he had read in a history book, not something he could remember as happening to him.

"Yeah, it'll get better," Tamblin said without conviction.

Cascata tried to smile but it was clear she was too worried, too hurt.

Tamblin headed up toward the Ravenclaw tower. By the time he'd reached the third floor his head was pounding. Every step he took seemed to make it worse. By the fifth floor he was having trouble breathing but not due to having exerted himself. His hands clenched, driving his long nails into the soft skin of his palm, in an effort to retain control. Pain to control pain. He couldn't go into the dormitory like this. Instead he sought out a narrow alcove. It was so small he had to wedge himself into it.

"Empty things should be kept in small places," he thought nonsensically.

He opened up, finally. The raw emotion he'd put aside for a month finally had its way with him. For a time it annihilated all thoughts; he became a conduit for the pain that he'd stored up inside him. He shuddered, and wept, and clenched his jaws, and pressed against the narrow walls of the alcove. Finally he passed out.

When he awoke it was early morning. He crawled out of the alcove like being born anew. The pain was still there but diminished. The anger remained too, but it was consuming him less.


	15. Chapter 15

Tamblin used one of the washrooms to clean himself up a bit, then headed down to the Great Hall. A number of sleepy-looking students were getting breakfast before classes started. He walked over to the Hufflepuff table. Cascata had her back to him but turned to look when Hannah and Susan gasped.

She started to stand up. "Tamblin, you look terrible, what happened?"

"Rough night. I… I just wanted to say I'm sorry about shutting you out. I'm going to try to do better. And I think things will get better. I just need some time."

Cascata was nodding.

"I understand, really I do. I just needed to know that what we had wasn't lost. Even if it takes a long time to come back." She smiled hopefully at him.

Tamblin felt awkward, and he fumbled around for another topic to take the pressure off.

"Uh, have you seen the schedules?"

Cascata gave him a blank look for a moment. "Schedules? Oh, for classes? Yeah. Um...we'll be together in Charms after lunch."

Tamblin nodded. "I better get some food."

Susan and Hannah were staring at him with terrible looks of empathy. Like they might burst from the pain they saw in him. He gave them a thin smile, that didn't cost him much, and went to eat a light breakfast at the Ravenclaw table.


	16. Chapter 16

Tamblin followed Lisa Turpin to History of Magic because he hadn't yet had a chance to see the Ravenclaw class schedule posted in the common room. Lisa had reflected a small portion of the same concern he'd seen in Hannah and Susan, but mostly she'd been distant since the Yule Ball last year. She'd told him about the class schedule without prying, but also without much warmth in her voice. As he walked down the hallways beside her he noticed the stiffness of the set of her shoulders and he felt a certain emptiness. Life was taking certain paths…and passing other paths by.

As they passed into Binn's classroom she reached out and squeezed his arm. Her eyes stayed cool. Tamblin sank into a seat amongst the weary-looking Ravenclaws and Gryffindors. Binns was already lecturing monotonously about the Giant wars.

Normally Tamblin enjoyed History of Magic. Today he found himself lulled into a light sleep almost immediately by Binn's droning tone and his own previous familiarity with the topic.


	17. Chapter 17

Lisa shook Tamblin to wake him as all around classmates gathered their belongings. Tamblin looked around sheepishly but nobody seemed to notice that he had dozed off in class.

"We have double Dark Arts next. Come on."

"Thanks, Lisa."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom was unchanged except, of course, for the teacher. Professor Umbridge was a squat wide woman who favored extremely inappropriate childish clothing. This morning she was wearing a pink sweater and had a black ribbon in her hair. Her wide face cracked into a gaping smile as the students filed in. Before the students could sit down she waved a wand and their chairs slid in under the desks.

Umbridge had, or affected, a high pitched girlish voice. "Class, don't sit down yet. I have a new seating chart."

She swished her short handled wand and a chart appeared on the blackboard. A number of the Ravenclaws groaned.

"A seating chart," Michael Corner protested. "We've never had assigned seats before…"

"Tut tut," Umbridge said. "I'm not surprised, but from now on you will be taught _properly_. Now find your seats."

The Ravenclaws grumbled but sorted themselves out. Tambin found that he was assigned to sit directly in the middle of the first row, right in front of Umbridge's desk. He sat down to find her beady eyes watching him closely. She smiled sweetly.

Her lesson consisted of having the students individually read from _Defensive Magical Theory_. She emphasized that this was the proper method of learning DADA and only the proper Ministry-approved curriculum would be followed in her class.

Tamblin tried to read the assigned pages but the Umbridge woman unnerved him. Whenever he looked up from the page she'd be there watching him, and when he didn't look he could feel her watching him, a sensation like walking through a spider web and feeling the strands catch on the skin and in the hair. When she caught him looking up at her, Umbridge would smile a fake saccharine smile.

The double period passed slowly.


	18. Chapter 18

By lunch he felt like he kept moving only by sheer willpower. He caught up with the girls. Other than asking how he was doing they spent the entire time complaining about the amount of homework they already had.

After lunch he walked with them up to Flitwick's classroom. Charms was interesting and Flitwick's usual boundless excitement to teach helped Tamblin stay awake, but he also assigned them yet more homework.

The Ravenclaw's last class of the day was Herbology so Tamblin said goodbye to the girls and squeezed Cascata's hand before trudging out to the greenhouses through a heavy rain.

Inside the steamy greenhouse Lisa went to sit with Parvati. Tamblin looked for Nott but the Slytherin student was sitting with Draco Malfoy. Tamblin hesitated for a moment and then found a seat by himself. He stared a while at Nott's back wondering at the change but the warmth of the greenhouse, the drumming of the rain on the glass, and his own total disinterest in the class subject lulled him quickly into a light doze. He woke up when everyone stood up to leave after the class finished. Quickly he wrote down the inevitable homework assignment from the blackboard before gathering his stuff and making his way back through the driving rain back to the castle and dinner.

If Cascata, Susan, and Hannah had been annoyed earlier, they were positively livid now about the first day's mountain of homework. Tamblin tried to care but couldn't. He ate mostly to fill his belly with warmth rather than out of real hunger, then he spent a short while listening to their complaints before heading up to the Ravenclaw dormitory. The other Ravenclaw boys were still down at dinner so he had the dorm to himself. He pulled the curtains of his bed closed and fell asleep almost immediately. He slept all the way through until morning.


	19. Chapter 19

Monday set the example of what they had to expect. Every class seemed to be an excuse for the teachers to assign yet more homework. By Wednesday the girls had determined that they needed a study session on Saturday to try and catch up. Tamblin, meanwhile, did better than the others. By withdrawing a little he could reduce his need for sleep, so that other than Monday night he stayed up far later than the others and had more time to work through the mountain of assignments. Some portion of each night was spent in miserable contemplation of what he had lost, and anger at who had taken from him. Then too he spent some time worrying at the new complications. Every year at Hogwarts seemed to bring new problems and issues. This year he was finding the close observation by the Ministry woman Umbridge, as well as Nott spending time with Malfoy, to be worrisome.

The school week ended and the relief among the fifth years was intense. None of them seemed to have expected just what the O.W.L. preparations would entail, or how sadistic their teachers would be in application of that regimen. After a lazy morning Tamblin gathered together his school materials and went down to the disused classroom they would meet in.

Hannah, Cascata, and Susan were already there and scribbling furiously on parchments. They only glanced up at him as he entered the room before going back to their work. Even Cascata was too busy to do much more than smile at him once. Tamblin looked over their shoulders for a moment and then pulled out a dozen scrolls from his bag.

"Here," he said simply and placed the works on the table.

"What are those," Hannah asked with a certain strain in her voice.

"This week's homework assignments. I got mine done early. If you want to look at them."

Before he finished the last sentence they had each grabbed a couple of the parchments and were reading them closely. After a few frantic minutes of looking over the treasure he'd poured onto the table they all started laughing. Cascata looked at him and smiled broadly.

"You're a life saver, Tamblin. This'll save us _hours_. I mean it, I wasn't sure how I was going to have time for Quidditch practice tomorrow," Cascata said.

"Ah, Quidditch," Tamblin said without enthusiasm. Cascata had technically joined the team last year but the season had been canceled due to the Triwizard Cup.

"We're keeping the same team we had planned for last year. Except…" She trailed off. Nobody needed to be reminded that Cedric would have to be replaced. "Jonathan Summerby, he's a year below us, is… uh… he's the new… you know."

"The new Seeker," Susan said. "Cedric," and Casata sniffed slightly at the name, "picked him out last year as his replacement for after he graduated. Cedric also suggested that Sage take over as captain."

Hannah piped up, "That annoyed Zach. He thought he deserved to be the next captain but nobody was going to second guess Cedric after what happened."

"Sage deserves it. She's been a good Chaser and she's been on the team longer than Zacharias," Cascata said fiercely.

Tamblin said, "Well, regardless, at least you get to play this year. All thanks to me of course."

Cascata blew a raspberry at him. They had teased each other like this many times before but this was the first time since the attack on the mansion. It felt like a small step back towards what they had had before. Tamblin saw in Cascata's eyes that she felt it too and she gave a smile after a quiet moment of realization.

Tamblin wondered what the others must have thought.

Susan cleared her throat. "We still got a lot of work; we can't just copy Tamblin's essays. I think they'd notice."


	20. Chapter 20

It still took 'til nearly dinner time for everyone to write their own versions of Tamblin's essays. Bur with the prospect of a Sunday free from homework the girls were in a good mood. As the group walked down toward the Great Hall, Cascata held Tamblin's hand. She waited for Susan and Hannah to get a ways ahead and then quietly pulled Tamblin into a side hall.

Before Tamblin could ask her anything she stepped up close to him and kissed him. It was the first time since the attack.

"I just wanted to say 'thanks.' You were a huge help. None of us were expecting to have that much work dumped on us the first week. So… uh… how'd you get it all done already?"

"I didn't sleep much."

Cascata looked like she expected this. "You've been withdrawing. Are you… being careful? I mean we haven't been spending as much time together…"

"I don't think that's a problem, I'm getting plenty of attention from you. You're thinking of me even when we aren't together."

"How... how do you know that," Cascata asked, looking shocked.

"I can feel it."

"You know what I'm thinking?"

"No, I just… The same way I can tell if someone is watching me, feel that someone is watching me, I know if you're thinking about me. I don't feel it from others, it must be because you're my anchor. I still draw attention from you, at least a little when you think about me, even without actually seeing me."

"Oh. So we wouldn't even have to be around each other, I guess."

"I don't think I'd get enough attention that way if I didn't see you at all; besides it's a moot point. I want you around," he said.

She smiled, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," He said and leaned in to kiss her once. "Come on, Susan and Hannah will wonder what happened to us."

"I think they can guess, they have last year to judge by," she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.


	21. Chapter 21

Sunday everyone frantically tried to relax as fast as possible before Monday came. Tamblin spent most of the day in the Artiste's Alcove just enjoying the peace and quiet. Cascata showed up after lunch and they spent a few hours together practicing painting as Phausto looked on and commented sarcastically. Tamblin felt that Cascata would rather have spent the time engaged with him in other activities, but this was better than nothing and it was all he felt up to socially.

The Weasley twins knew about the Alcove, although not how to get into the various rooms beyond. Tamblin's first year they had made an arrangement to store things in the alcove that they didn't want Filch to find. They apparently assumed the arrangement still stood because at some point they had moved a bunch of boxes, flyers, lab notes, and things Tamblin refused to guess at the purpose of into the alcove against one of the blank walls. A note on the pile said simply, "Best not. Trust us." Tamblin stayed far away from their things.


	22. Chapter 22

The next morning at breakfast the Great Hall buzzed with the news that Professor Umbridge had been appointed as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Tamblin had been dealing with a couple notes from his team working on the Death Eater problem when he overheard Parvati talking about the Daily Prophet article. He listened in on her discussion with Lisa and Mandy long enough to get the general idea. The Ministry was taking over Hogwarts and using Umbridge as the means.

Tamblin looked over at Nott and found him staring back from the Slytherin table. Nott was flanked by Malfoy on one side and Blaise Zabini on the other. The three seemed to be discussing the Prophet article, although Nott mainly watched Tamblin as his companions pointed excitedly at the paper.

At Defense Against the Dark Arts Umbridge had a smug expression on her wide froglike face. The lesson was again simply reading from the text, and indeed Umbridge had made it clear that was all that the class would ever consist of. Tamblin was only vaguely annoyed by the ineffective nature of her lesson plan. What did bother him was her obvious Ministry connection and the fact that she spent each lesson staring at him, as if daring him to disappear in front of her. Or maybe she was just reminding him that the Ministry was watching him closely.

In Charms, Tamblin noticed that Ernie was sulking and barely talking to Susan. He asked Cascata about it in hushed tones.

"Oh, he found out that you had all the assignments done for the Saturday study session. He says 'Well if I had _known_ that I would have shown up.' Then he thought Susan would let him copy off hers."

"She didn't?"

"Well she probably would have but she's been feeling a bit taken advantage of. She just wants to make him beg a bit first."

"Harsh," Tamblin said.

"Very. Of course we had some rough spots the first few years."

"You never made _me_ beg."

"Hrrrm," Cascata said thoughtfully, "…true. It's something to consider. You'd probably beg in a very cute manner."

"You're unlikely to find out."

"I can probably think of something," She said with a smile.

Tamblin didn't get a chance to respond because Flitwick was coming around to check on their work on the Enantus mirror charm.


	23. Chapter 23

Ernie showed up early to the next Saturday study session. Although he had his books open in a neat phalanx around him, there was an unmistakable intensity to his look when Tamblin entered the classroom. Tamblin had again worked through most of the homework on his own during his waking nights. The girls devoured his work no less readily than Ernie. Tamblin was not taking Divination, however, and so they spent most of the study session poring over _The Dream Oracle_ and muttering under their breaths. Every now and then Susan sent a glare at Cascata. Cascata, in turn, tried to ignore them as she had long since given up defending her aunt Trelawney to the group. Cascata had convinced Susan and Hannah to take Divination with her, which had become a bit of a sore point between the girls as the class had become more and more obviously a total waste of time.

Tamblin meanwhile had continued elective lessons with Flitwick on the subject of memory magics. His assignment this year was to create a new enchantment. He'd discussed the idea last year of creating a memory shield of sorts, allowing the user to block most of their memories by showing only the blocking memory to a hostile legilimancer. The task was daunting; he wasn't learning new magic- he was actually creating it. But Flitwick felt that the charm should be similar enough to previous memory magics to make it possible for a gifted student. The considerable upside was that Flitwick wasn't assigning much in the way of homework. There was no OWL test for memory magics. Instead Tamblin's completion, or failure, with the memory shield would determine his credit.

As the study session wound down for dinner, Susan lagged behind the others. Hannah and Cascata steered a slightly confused Ernie out the door towards the Great Hall. Tamblin, meanwhile, perched on a desk. Over the years it had become something of a pre-arranged signal among them that if one of the three girls hung back it was because they wanted to talk to Tamblin privately. He had served as a bit of a confidant to them because of his status of being outside their house, and his natural discretion.

"I had something I wanted to ask you," Susan started.

"I guessed as much."

"I've never really liked History of Magic. Actually you're the only person I know who does. But I'd _really_ like to work hard this year and kind of… catch up… before the O.W.L.s. Do you think you could do a little extra studying with me? Maybe on Sunday? Just for a little while. I promise it won't be all day."

Tamblin shrugged. "Sure, Susan."

She looked relieved.

"Do you mind if I ask why the sudden interest, though? Like you said, you don't like the topic."

Susan rolled her eyes. When she spoke she lowered her voice and affected a slightly familiar accent, "It's important to have a proper appreciation for our history and its traditions."

Tamblin cocked his head and closed his eyes. The imitation was familiar and he could almost place it. And then he had it.

"Fudge. You've been talking to Cornelius Fudge?"

"Yeah. I talked to him this summer about the O.W.L.s. He made some suggestions, and History of Magic is at the top of the list. You see, I kind of want to go into politics."

"And he told you what courses would be well received by the Ministry."

"Uh huh. I know there's some strange stuff between you and the Ministry. I don't really know exactly what it is, but still I'll understand if you'd rather not help."

"The stuff between me and the Ministry doesn't change my friendship with you. Do you want to start tomorrow?" Tamblin asked.

The headstrong young woman smiled the sheepish smile she only got when she felt indebted to another. "Sure, tomorrow would be great."

"Oh, I wanted to say that I'm sorry about the prefect thing."

Susan's smile disappeared.

"What do you mean?"

"I know you were hoping to be a prefect, and I understand why Hannah getting it would hurt you. You aren't a bad person for feeling a little jealous."

"I-I don't know what-"

"It's okay, Susan. I don't know how I know what you feel, or felt really, but I do. I know you felt bad for being jealous and angry. It's understandable."

"What do you mean you know how I felt?"

Tamblin hesitated. "The first day back there was a moment- never mind. Let's just say I understand and I wanted you to know it is okay. You _are_ being supportive of Hannah. I'm sure she knows it too."

Tamblin felt unsettled at trying to explain an event he didn't really understand himself, and Susan was looking at him with concern now rather than relief.

"Let's go to dinner," he said awkwardly.

Susan nodded her head but continued to look confused and suspicious.


	24. Chapter 24

The Ravenclaw common room was quiet, Tamblin's fellow students having gone off to bed already, so Tamblin heard the small footsteps of the house elf as it approached. This was not unusual, the house elves cleaned the common room every night while the students, save Tamblin, slept. But this elf was not making its way around the room picking up fizzing whizbee wrappers or collecting up cold tea cups. Instead it approached Tamlin with a small parcel.

"Master Demosthene," The elf lisped quietly, as if afraid of waking the students in the floors above.

Tamblin nodded. The elf placed the parcel in his hand and bowed.

"Wait. Who gave this to you to give to me?"

The elf's face started to tremble. His small hands clenched into fists and after a moment he began to hit himself in the face and stomach.

"C-c-c-c-can't say." The elf knocked the wind out of his own body. When he stopped gasping he said, "Was tooooold. *Uhf* Told not- ow- to say." The house elf made a dash for one of the bookshelves and picked up _An Apocryphal Tale of Hogwarts Headmasters and Their Pets_ , a tome so large that it eclipsed his entire frame. With shaking arms he began to drop the book upon his head.

"Stop! All right, I withdraw the question. Thank you."

The elf smiled weakly and replaced the huge book on the shelf. Tamblin waited for him to depart before opening the parcel.


	25. Chapter 25

Tamblin crept down the staircases, level by level. He'd done it so many times that he barely had to think about it, even with the halls darkened. He moved wraithlike through shadows until he reached the main hall. There he stopped and came fully back to the world. Waiting in the place they used previous years to play Wizard's Chess was Nott. Tamblin held up a small white pawn from the Slytherin's chess set as he walked toward Nott.

"I got your message, Theodore. Why couldn't you just send me a note?"

Nott smiled. "Anyone can read a note. This," he tapped the pawn in Tamblin's hand, "was more secure."

Tamblin said nothing; he felt that it was up to Nott to explain his recent distance from Tamblin and closeness with Malfoy.

"Follow me, we should find a place less likely to be interrupted."

Tamblin assumed he meant an interruption by a wandering teacher or the caretaker Filch, but Nott's eyes watched the entrance to the dungeons. They made their way up to the third floor. Tamblin was surprised by how loud and clumsy Nott seemed compared to his own silent movements. Nott led them to a corner junction of two hallways. They would be able to see anyone approaching from a distance, and there were no alcoves in these hallways for a person to hide and eavesdrop.

"I witnessed an interesting thing today," Nott remarked casually, as if they were chatting over tea rather than conspiring under cover of darkness.

"What was that?"

"Malfoy asked me if I could possibly see my way to loaning him some galleons."

Tamblin smiled. "And what did you say?"

"Oh, what I said doesn't matter. The interesting thing is what he wanted the money for."

"And what was that," Tamblin asked.

"Nothing in particular. It seems he just was a bit strapped for cash. Doesn't that seem odd?"

"You mean because his family is wealthy enough to be able to afford him a decent allowance?"

"Precisely. And I've seen the scions of the Crabbe and Goyle families shaking down a number of younger students for coins."

"I'm having an effect."

Nott looked very serious; the hard look was unusual coming from his rabbit-like features. "Yes, you are. Or rather your campaign is putting a significant pinch on their families. And they strongly suspect your role in the matter."

Tamblin shrugged. "That was probably unavoidable. And I like them knowing why they are being ruined."

"They won't just sit by passively while you take revenge on them, Tamblin. Your presence in this castle is probably the only reason you are still alive."

Tamblin gave back an equally hard look. "They tried to kill me once, when I was unaware. They failed then. I'm ready for them now."

Nott pursed his lips for a moment. "They are not unmindful of your _resources_. They want my help in bringing you down, because I seem to know you best, at least of the people they could turn against you."

"And will you help them?"

Nott looked angry for the first time Tamblin could ever recall. "You gave up the Narrow Ground, not I!"

For a moment Tamblin could see past Nott's mask to the loneliness and betrayal he felt.

"It was not a choice. I would have remained neutral, but the Death Eaters attacked me. They chose to make war on my house."

"After you chose to shelter Karkaroff, their enemy. No, don't answer- I didn't ask you here to argue your actions. I understand why you have taken the course you have. I do not want to descend into recriminations. Not with you. But understand that your actions have put me into a very precarious position."

Tamblin nodded. "I do understand that. But you've always been an outsider among the Slytherin…"

"An outsider is one thing. That's something they fear but can ignore because it is no threat to them. Now they view me as someone close to their enemy. That they cannot accept. They must either be sure that I do not work against them, or they must treat me as an enemy. They cannot countenance neutrality from me now."

"I think I understand you as well as anyone, Theodore. And I respect you. You will do right by your house. I cannot, and do not, expect more from you than that."

Nott closed his eyes for a moment. When they opened they were glossy. "I will try to lull and mislead them, to let them hear what they want while staying to the Narrow. That is the best I can do."

Tamblin held out his hand and Nott shook it.

"Actually," Tamblin said, "I had wanted to discuss a matter with you, Theodore. We both know your father is involved with the Death Eaters. I suggest you disentangle your resources from that of your father. So far I have left him alone, but I do not mean to spare him."

Nott's eyes were now clear and very cold. He spoke with a clipped and precise pronunciation.

"I would consider that a _diffidation_ between our houses," Nott said, using the term for a formal severing of peaceful relations.

There was a long pause as they measured each other's will.

"I will keep that in mind," Tamblin said finally.

They left each other then, one going up and the other down.


	26. Chapter 26

Each Saturday study session had more people than the one before. Rumors had started to circulate. The session after Ernie showed up, Justin Finch-Fletchley started attending for the first time in years. Tamblin noticed that he sat next to Hannah and seemed to be trying to talk to her, but she was mostly ignoring his interest. The session after that saw Zacharias Smith show up. The next weekend a Hogsmeade visit was planned and it was mutually agreed before hand that there would be no study session. They deserved a break.

Meanwhile Tamblin kept meeting with Susan on Sundays to go over his voluminous notes from the last four years of History of Magic. He was impressed by how hard Susan was trying with the topic despite her total disinterest. It didn't help that Tamblin kept wandering off onto tangents that he personally found fascinating from his own study, but which had never been discussed in class and almost certainly would not be on the O.W.L.s.

Hannah and Cascata never mentioned the Sunday sessions between Tamblin and Susan, although they must have known. Tamblin figured that they didn't want to offend Susan, who could be surprisingly sensitive about any suggestion that she needed help.


	27. Chapter 27

Tamblin read the letter three times, which was not hard since it was quite brief, but he found the contents very hard to really absorb.

 _Master Demosthene_

 _On behalf of the noble house of Giovanni, whose distinction is uncontested in quality and purity, I entreat your consent to blessed nuptial arrangement with my exquisite and most beloved sister Celestia._

 _With deepest respect and boundless love,_

 _Celestine Giovanni_

 _P.S. My line would consider such a union to recompense and seal the breach caused by the sundered engagement of Victhen Demosthene and my aunt Margaritte Giovanni._

Tamblin considered how _very_ complicated a short little note could be. He knew nothing about an engagement made or broken between his father and a Giovanni. Nor could he investigate the claim easily with the family histories destroyed.

And the other issue raised by the letter would require careful consideration. For the moment he could think of no appropriate action but to place the letter in his bag and think about it.


	28. Chapter 28

The morning of the Hogsmeade weekend he noticed Cascata, Susan, and Hannah having a small argument at the Hufflepuff table. He couldn't hear their words but he could tell from their body language that the girls were disagreeing about something. After he ate a light breakfast he went round to the table. They were speaking in quiet hisses which ended abruptly when he came close.

"What's going on?" He asked.

The girls exchanged glances.

"Nothing," Cascata said. "We were just talking about what we should do today in Hogsmeade."

"I see. And you were having some trouble deciding?"

Cascata shook her head unconvincingly, "No, not really."

Hannah and Susan were looking at their plates. Cascata smiled again.

"I guess I'll see you later," Tamblin said.


	29. Chapter 29

Hogsmeade was cold with a swift wind that cut into the students every time they ventured out of doors. Despite that, it was hard to stay inside what with the sun shining and the relief from the monotony of homework.

Usually Cascata wanted to run all over Hogsmeade checking every store for anything new and interesting. She spent far more time at Hogwarts than any other student, excepting her sister, and so the chance to get out and see new things was rich and tempting for her. This time Tamblin thought her pace seemed a little more frantic though. She seemed to be in more of a rush for the sake of rushing than because she was enjoying herself. After going through Zonko's and Honeyduke's and Gladrag's she steered Tamblin firmly towards the Three Broomsticks.

He waited until she'd had half of her warmed Butterbeer and then said, "Alright, what is going on?"

She tried to look innocent. "We're having a nice day out and getting warmed up for some snogging later."

"I'm serious Cascata, I can tell something is up. Just tell me."

Cascata sort of squirmed. "I don't think I should."

"No snogging," he said.

"All right, all right. I'll tell," she said. Rather than just say, though, she led him over to a corner table and then leaned in close to whisper. "The Potter kid is having some kind of meeting over at that other pub. Hannah and Susan went. Granger says they're talking about learning Defense Against the Dark Arts outside of classes."

Tamblin frowned. "And?"

"And, I just didn't think you should get involved."

"Why not?"

"Oh for pete's sake, Tamblin! Look at what happened this summer. Your home destroyed, Vlora killed, Karkaroff taken and probably tortured if not killed. I just don't want you getting hurt anymore and Potter is a magnet for trouble. We got lucky. By all rights we should have died too."

"You've begged me to help Dumbledore before."

"Yeah, I know. Stupid me, I guess I just didn't really think about it. I mean I never considered what could happen until Cedric."

"I'm sorry. What about Susan and Hannah?"

"I don't want them hurt either," Cascata's voice was pleading, "but they're determined. Hannah feels like she has to. She's not sure she deserves to be a prefect and this is her way of proving herself. Susan wouldn't let her go alone, and besides she thinks Granger and Potter are right, and you know how Susan gets when she's sure she's right."

Tamblin didn't point out that the Death Eaters were almost sure to try and kill him anyway.

"Actually," Cascata said, "I'd like to take one last shot at talking Hannah and Susan out of it. Do you mind?"

"No, let's go…"

"Could you stay here? That way at least they can't convince you to go."

Tamblin started to respond when he saw the intensity of her expression. Instead he just nodded. Cascata gathered up her winter cloak and headed out.

Tamblin sat at the corner table. As usual when he was alone in a social setting, he drifted into a reverie in which he became more sensitive to the interplay of attention around him. He realized that people were watching him. It startled him that he didn't notice earlier but he'd been focused on Cascata and her odd mood. Slowly he shifted in his seat to scan the busy tavern. There were too many people in close proximity for him to just feel the source of the attention. Finally he found her- a woman at the bar who had a little too much interest in his corner when she scanned the room. She was strikingly unremarkable, like a person trying too hard not to stand out.

Tamblin was sure he hadn't seen her before. Before he could spend much time thinking about it, his chair was jostled by another patron. The boy apologized and then in a hissed whisper said " _don't_ chase after her."

Tamblin snapped his gaze up in time to see Nott turning away to sit at a nearby table and ignore him.

'Don't chase after her?' What did that mean? Tamblin's thoughts clicked like the second hand gears of a watch. The woman watching him. People were watching him. Who would be watching him? The ministry. The Death Eaters were watching him too. They were waiting for a chance to strike. Hogsmeade. This was the best chance for them. But "don't chase after her?" The woman at the bar wasn't running anywhere.

Cascata.

Tamblin knocked over his table as he threw himself toward the door.

Outside the street was deceptively tranquil. Little foot traffic through the windy cold. Tamblin looked up and down the street. She'd said something about another pub but he didn't know any other pub in hogsmeade. He picked a direction and started running.

He turned a corner and saw Cascata standing at the entrance of an alley looking his way. She started to wave at him when someone in the alley grabbed her and dragged her back. Tamblin withdrew as he ran to the alley.

He reached it and looked down its length. Halfway down it he could see a small shape covered by a cloak. Tamblin moved down the alley scanning for attackers. He could find none. He thought he might have heard footsteps in the distance.

He came back to the world and reached down to touch Cascata. Her small body seemed too small, still lying in a heap in the alley way. Gently he turned her over to see how badly injured she might be, as he did so he kept his eyes focused on the end of the alley where her attackers ran off.

He looked down at Cascata and she smiled up at him. "Surprise," she said and she threw a powder in his face. Tamblin staggered back against the alley wall with his eyes burning.

 _Callista_ pulled his wand out of his hand and yelled "Over here."

Tamblin rubbed at his eyes; he could see nothing as he heard footsteps running down the alley towards him. Hands grabbed him by the front of his tunic and slammed him back against the alley wall. Another fist struck him in the gut and he tried to double over but was kept firmly pinned to the wall.

"Think you're pretty smart, don't you, freak," a voice drawled. "Yeah we know all about what a freak you are. Big deal, we caught you easy enough."

Someone hit Tamblin again in the stomach. He thought he might throw up. He could only make out the vaguest blur of the alleyway and his eyes were still streaming tears freely.

"You're my ticket, freak, my proof that I'm smart enough, and strong enough, to do what needs to be done."

Tamblin wheezed, "Malfoy…"

"What?"

"You talk too much…"

Something hit the one holding Tamblin in the side hard enough to hurl him down the alleyway and he dragged Tamblin with him. Tamblin took a second to recover his breath and then tried to disengage from the meaty form that was now limp except for a grip on his robes. A yell sounded in the alleyway followed by a thump of a body hitting the ground and a pair of feet ran past Tamblin. There was a sound like a sword cutting through the air and a piece of the alley wall exploded above his head.

He'd managed to get one hand pried off his robe when footsteps approached him casually.

"Let me help," a woman's voice said. "Sorry about that. I thought this oaf would let go when I stunned him. Didn't think he'd manage to take you for a ride."

Tamblin looked at the blur of the woman. "From the Three Broomsticks?"

The woman looked like she nodded and then she leaned closer, "What's wrong… oh! We need to get your eyes looked at. I don't know what they hit you with but they look really bad. Come on, I'll lead you to a place."

"No, I have to find Cascata! The Death Eaters…"

"Shhhh. We have people all over Hogsmeade in case they tried something. If we'd thought these scuds were up to something this daring, we would have been watching them carefully too," she said and there was a sound like her kicking the stunned body on the ground. "Come on. We'll get you fixed up."


	30. Chapter 30

She led him a way down the street and up to a second floor room. There were evidently others in the room because as soon as she entered there were several exclamations.

"What do you think you're doing" a gruff voice demanded.

"He's injured," the woman said with a slight defensive tone.

"He's the son of a Death Eater," the voice spat out. Tamblin recognized it now.

"Moody…" he said.

"He got ambushed by Malfoy. They did something to his eyes. He needs help."

"We'll help him," a new male voice said, this one was familiar too, "but you should have just taken him to St. Mungo's."

Tamblin was led to a chair.

"Sit here until we have something to help you," the woman said. Then her companions took her aside to get her story about what happened.

Tamblin listened in closely while pretending to be deaf.

"I was watching him in the pub when something spooked him. He took off and I followed. When I got outside I lost track of him, but I heard a commotion in an alley. The younger Crabbe was holding him while the younger Malfoy hit him. There was a girl too, I don't know her name."

"What happened then?" the other male asked. Tamblin could almost place him.

"I stunned Crabbe and then Malfoy. The girl ran and… I missed her. She got away while I checked on him."

Moody spoke again, "If Crabbe was holding him you should have stunned Malfoy and the girl first. If they'd been more than pups we'd be looking for your corpse right now."

"I meant to stun Malfoy first," she said plaintively, "I just kind of… missed. I got him the second time!"

"I swear you'll be the death of me, Tonks."

"That's enough. We can't arrest them for the assault though, we'd have to explain what we were doing here." The other male again. Tamblin figured out who he was finally, the Ministry man Weasley.

"They get away again with just a few bruises," Moody asked. "Just let me get down there before they wake up again. They won't be a problem anymore."

"Alastair, don't you dare. Is the potion ready," Weasley asked.

"Yes," Moody said. There were some clinking noises and then footsteps came close again.

It was Weasley. "Tamblin, we have something to help your eyes. I need to pour this into them. It might sting a little at first but it should clean out the Malocchio powder."

"Yeuch, that's what it was," the woman asked.

Moody growled again, "I swear Tonks…"

Tamblin tilted his head back and tried to hold his eyes open. Drops of something that felt like acid splattered all over his face. Weasley must have tipped the whole vial at once to get some in both eyes before Tamblin could blink.

Tamblin cursed and rubbed his eyes some more but they did seem to be getting clearer.

Weasley crouched down in front of Tamblin.

"I know you're a smart kid Tamblin, and I bet you could get all kinds of ideas from what you've heard here today. I'm going to ask you not to think about it. There are things going on that it's best that you not be involved in. Can I have your word that you'll not tell others about this place and what happened?"

"His word? What use-" Moody started but Weasley shushed him.

Tamblin could make out Weasley's face now. "She helped me, if she asks me not to speak of the matter I'll consent."

"Tonks?"

Weasley moved away and the woman came close. She looked sort of awkward to be in the spotlight. "Uh, could you not… you know…"

Tamblin nodded. "Thank you for the help. I'll keep your secret."

Tonks held out his wand. "The girl dropped this in her hurry to run away."

Tamblin took it.

"Who is this girl?" Moody demanded.

"Nobody," Tamblin said, his voice icy.

Tonks led him away from the second floor hideout as his vision wasn't fully healed yet. She left him when they reached the main thoroughfare. He stumbled into the Three Broomsticks. He looked for Nott but didn't see him. He'd warned Tamblin against following, but he'd been vague enough that Tamblin had thought Cascata was in danger meaning he was sure to follow. Was it a warning or merely bait?

He settled himself back at the corner table ignoring a glare from Rosmerta, the innkeeper, who had had to right it after his hasty exit. He was shocked by how little time the whole thing had taken. He considered looking for Cascata, but Tonks had assured him again that she was in no danger plus Tamblin felt rather unsteady. He had a number of bruises and scrapes, and his stomach still felt rather watery. His eyes were much better but not fully healed yet. He could see but it felt like his eyelids were full of sand.

He'd only been waiting a few minutes when Cascata came back in looking peeved.

"Well they still wouldn't listen to reason…" She started and then stopped. "Tamblin, you okay? Your eyes look all puffy."

"I'm fine."

"Anything happen," she asked anxiously.

"Played a game of chess," he said suddenly.

"Your clothes are mussed up…"

"I take chess very seriously."

"Did you win?" she asked.

"Not exactly, but I'm looking forward to the rematch."

They had a couple more Butterbeers and then Tamblin suggested maybe they should head back to the castle early. Cascata didn't object, rather she seemed somewhat relieved.


	31. Chapter 31

Sunday Tamblin received a note asking him to see the Headmaster. He made his way to Dumbledore's office. He was surprised to find Professor McGonagall present with the Headmaster when he got there. She made no move to leave and so Tamblin assumed she was involved. Her stiff demeanor made him review if he had done anything wrong in Transfigurations lately, but she always had that effect.

"Ah, Tamblin. How are you?" Dumbledore asked genially.

"I'm fine, Headmaster, thank you for asking."

Dumbledore smiled paternally. "I'm afraid my question is not entirely asked out of politeness."

Tamblin cocked his head. "You know what happened in Hogsmeade…"

McGonagall looked unsure of the conversation. "Hogsmeade? What's this? Albus, I thought you asked me-"

"All in good time, Minerva," Dumbledore said. "Tamblin, I did hear about an altercation in Hogsmeade."

"Well that answers that," Tamblin said.

"Answer's what, Tamblin?"

"They seemed unwilling to explain their actions to the Ministry, which seemed odd since Weasley at least was a Ministry employee last time I saw him. But if they work for you…"

Professor McGonagall shot an alarmed look at Dumbledore.

"Very good, Tamblin. Your quick thinking is one of the reasons I asked you here."

"Why is that?"

Professor McGonagall's voice was severe, "Address the headmaster by his title or as 'sir,' Mr. Demosthene."

"Please, Minerva, it's alright. I don't like to stand on formality here. And Tamblin and I have had chats less pleasant than this." Dumbledore chuckled. "Tamblin, before I answer your question I need to make certain of something- I know you are very angry about the destruction of your home and the terrible loss of your house elf, but I would ask you not to take out that anger on the children of those responsible."

Tamblin's eyes narrowed. "You want me to leave Malfoy alone?"

"As well as his accomplices. I understand the desire for revenge, but it is a dangerous thing. It cements hatred and makes friendships impossible. I cannot have war between the students of this school."

Tamblin grit his teeth, "I should ignore their attack on me? The threat they pose me? The threat they pose my friends?"

Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "I ask you to trust me to see that they cause no further harm, and that you forgive this attack. I know you have the capacity to bring ruin upon them here, I ask that you not exercise it."

"And if I do?"

"MR. DEMOSTHENE," Professor McGonagall yelled.

Dumbledore spoke quietly as if he hadn't heard her outburst, "I may have no option but to expel those students who cannot resist the temptation to harm each other."

Tamblin struggled. "Very well. I'll let it go for now. If you can put a leash on them then I'll stay my anger." He was surprised by how much giving up that little measure of revenge cost him.

"Thank you, now to the other matter, which I'm afraid is more critical. There are some things I need to know, Tamblin, things I have tried to discover on my own, but so far have been unable."

"And you think I can help," Tamblin said. Professor McGonagall looked like she was going to have a stroke if Tamblin kept addressing the Headmaster informally.

"I rather hope so. There are places you may be able to go that I cannot, or cannot without attracting so much attention that it will ruin any chance to get or use the information."

Tamblin laughed. "So I'm to be your thief this time. What is it you need stolen?"

Professor McGonagall interrupted again, "Headmaster, what is all this? You asked me to tutor Demosthene. What is this about stealing something?"

"Just so, Minerva. I need you to teach Tamblin the Patronus charm."

Professor McGonagall looked surprised for a second before horror overtook her features. "Albus," she said, aghast, "you can't be serious. He's a child, and you want to send him? This is madness. We can-"

"Minerva, we've discussed the options several times. There is no other course of action." Dumbledore looked sadly at Tamblin. "I need to ask you something, Tamblin, and it is very important you not withhold anything. Do you understand?"

"Ask your question."

"Two years ago you told Minister Fudge and Madam Bones that you were able to hide from Dementors. Was this true?"

"I confirmed it under Veritaserum," Tamblin said simply. McGonagall gasped but didn't interrupt.

"And did you leave anything out?"

"I declined to discuss the circumstances. I still do."

"But nothing relevant to the act of evading the dementors?"

"No, Headmaster."

Dumbledore looked saddened. "I see, then I must ask you to make good on the boon you owe me."

Tamblin had placed himself in Dumbledore's debt during his second year in return for letting Cascata leave Hogwarts and come to the Demosthene mansion. Tamblin had asked the favor so as to keep her away from the Basilisk that haunted the school that year. Ironically she'd ended up nearly fatally wounded by a different serpent- the now destroyed Amphisbaen. But Dumbledore had held to his part of the bargain and was within his rights to ask it be repaid.

Tamblin nodded. "Very well, what is it you want?"

"Tamblin, I'm very sorry but I must ask you to go to Azkaban."


	32. Chapter 32

Professor McGonagall was livid.

"Albus… Albus, I _forbid_ this." She protested. "You can't send a child there."

"No, Minerva," Dumbledore said quietly, "the tragedy is that a child is the only one I _can_ send. Tamblin's gifts make him uniquely suited to this task. Tamblin, there are things known to a prisoner in Azkaban. Important things which they may refuse to speak of, but surely remember."

Tamblin laughed bitterly. "And _conveniently_ I happen to have been taught memory magics. How long have you planned this?"

"I can only wish I had the foresight you imagine me to have, Tamblin. Sometimes life does take odd turns of its own. We can only be prepared to handle them as best we can."

"I don't doubt your ability to handle things, Headmaster." Professor McGonagall appeared torn as to which was the greater affront; Tamblin's tone to Dumbledore or Dumbledore's request of Tamblin. Professor Dumbledore, meanwhile, looked merely calm and sad.

"Will you do this thing, Tamblin?"

Tamblin grit his teeth.

"Yes."

"Demosthene! Albus! How can you even consider this?"

Tamblin responded before Dumbledore. "Your concern is touching, Professor. You needn't worry though. He's quite aware of my abilities. He knows I can do this. He just needed the lever to make me."

Dumbledore spoke to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva, he must be taught the Patronus charm."

"I can't do that," she protested. "I can't be a party to this."

"You must. Who else has the skill, can call him into study without suspicion, and won't ask why he is to be taught this?"

Professor McGonagall looked at Tamblin. With a stiff formality she resigned herself. "You've always been an excellent study, Mr. Demosthene, but this is magic far more advanced than you are used to. I don't agree with this course, but if you must learn it, I am the best choice to teach it without raising suspicions. We'll meet Sunday nights in my office, starting tonight."

"Let's meet after dinner, I have a prior commitment Sunday afternoons," he said thinking of Susan.


	33. Chapter 33

Monday brought another announcement from the ministry: all student groups and activities were banned unless expressly authorized by the Hogwarts High Inquisitor. Meanwhile the girls seemed to have made up any differences they had about the Hogsmeade weekend.

Herbology was frustrating because of the occasional gloating smiles from Malfoy. Despite having ended up stunned in an alleyway he seemed pleased with how he had fooled Tamblin. Nott wouldn't meet his eye.

Malfoy's smirk ate at him as did Professor Umbridge's constant leers. Tuesday he skipped DADA. He just couldn't stand to be stared at by that woman. She caught him in the hall later and demanded an explanation. He tried to claim his stomach had bothered him but she had already checked with Pomfrey that he hadn't reported to the infirmary. With obvious relish she gave him detention for the following night.


	34. Chapter 34

Detention with Professor Umbridge turned out to be anticlimactic. Tamblin reported to her office after dinner Wednesday night. He was stunned by the sheer tackiness of her office. Doilies everywhere, pink everywhere, and the walls were festooned with decorative plates. On every plate a kitten, complete with a little bow, would scamper and play, the combined effect of which was like being drowned in cheap perfume. Umbridge herself looked terribly out of place. Her clothes, as ever, were inappropriately adolescent, but her toad face was made even more monstrous by the surrounding saccharine décor. She had set out a desk and sheet of paper and quill. On a chalkboard she had written "Truancy is unacceptable."

"Sit down," she said when he had come in. "Write this sentence on the paper."

"How many times?"

"I'll tell you when to stop," she said and smiled so broadly that the corners of her lips seemed destined to meet on the back side of her head.

Tamblin looked around. "I need ink."

"No, you don't. Just write with the quill."

Tamblin frowned and used the quill. He traced the words "truancy is unacceptable" on the page a dozen times before she came over to check. When she saw the page was blank she seemed upset. She pulled out the page and looked at it carefully. The indentations from the tip of the quill were visible barely.

"Hey," he protested as she grabbed his hand holding the quill and started to make him write the words on the page again. As she started to trace the first letter she yelped and let go of his hand. A small line of red appeared on the page which she stared at as she started sucking at the back of her hand.

Tamblin stared at her bewildered. Professor Umbridge stared at him with suspicion.

"That'll be enough, Demosthene."

Tamblin left, wondering at her bizarre behavior.


	35. Chapter 35

He found Cascata in the halls on his way back from Umbridge's aborted detention.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," she said.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh, just kind of restless," she said. "Not much to do but can't get to sleep yet either. Oh, how was detention?"

"Odd, but brief."

"Well I suppose that's not bad."

"Where are Susan and Hannah?"

"Oh. I don't know." She moved close to whisper, "I think it's that thing from Hogsmeade. They don't talk about it and I don't ask. Seems to be working so far."

"Ah. Something occurs to me…"

"What's that?"

"Well," he said and he stepped close to her, "the classroom we use for the study sessions must be deserted…"

"Oh yeah?"

"Shame to leave a perfectly good snogging room go disused," he said.

"Really? I mean, are you feeling up to it? I don't want to push you."

Tamblin turned her shoulders so she faced the hallway they'd have to go down to get to the classroom. He pinched her butt and she yelped.

"Get going," he ordered.


	36. Chapter 36

Cascata kept giggling at the Saturday session. Susan eventually growled at her, wondering what she was so happy about.

"Oh, nothing," she said before lavishing one glorious look at Tamblin.

Putting aside some of his anger so as to accede to Dumbledore's request had left him with some unused attention and energy. He'd found that focusing these on Cascata was well rewarded. She'd been quite happy with their relationship this last week and looked it.

On top of that she seemed to be happy with how Quidditch was going, at least she said she was and Tamblin assumed it was true, as he had no practical knowledge of the game. Other than her aunt, Trelawney, being put on probation by Umbridge in her capacity as High Inquisitor, Cascata seemed to be relatively happy with her life of late.

Tamblin's life was perforce developing a routine. Weekdays were spent in classes. Weeknights he worked on homework for several hours and occasionally slipped out for a walk. Saturdays he spent what time he could with Cascata before the Saturday study session which inevitably lasted until dinner. Sundays he worked on the memory shield before spending several hours with Susan poring over years of History of Magic notes, and then went to see Professor McGonagall for the frustrating lessons on summoning a Patronus.

Those lessons weren't going well. Professor McGonagall's already brittle manner was rendered more strained by a task she didn't agree with, and even more so from the continuing failure to succeed. Tamblin had so far been incapable of producing anything more than a puff of silver colored smoke, a result that had caused Professor McGonagall to demand over and over to know what his happy thought was. Tamblin suspected that his gift was making it hard for him to be present enough to produce a difficult magic so rooted in one's mood. Tamblin gave it a month before flatly telling Professor McGonagall that it was no use, and that he would speak to Professor Dumbledore about the matter. Professor McGonagall must have assumed he was going to tell the headmaster that he would not be able to go, because she seemed visibly relieved and even thrust a bowl full of snaps into his hands for him to take a treat before leaving her office.


	37. Chapter 37

"Hello, Tamblin," Dumbledore said pleasantly.

"The Patronus lessons haven't worked out; I've let Professor McGonagall know there's no use in proceeding."

"Don't be hasty, Tamblin. The Patronus charm is difficult magic. Many adult wizards are unable to produce a true Patronus."

"Even if I were able to produce a Patronus, which I don't think is possible, I very much doubt it'd be powerful enough to hold off all the Dementors in Azkaban. It has to be stealth, or nothing."

Dumbledore considered this. "I had hoped for you to have a back up, although I know your gift for stealth is formidable. I did have one thing I wanted to ask you in private, Tamblin."

Tamblin nodded.

"Why did you shelter Karkaroff? You surely knew the risk of it."

Tamblin frowned.

"You should ask someone about the risk of opposing the Death Eaters?"

"Forgive me, Tamblin, but I believe that you were raised to protect your family estates, to regard the continuation of that line as the utmost aspiration of your life. Sheltering Karkaroff was a terrible risk for you to take. I have to admit that I find it an odd action on your part unless you needed something from him." Dumbledore's blue eyes stared at him causing that slightly nauseous feeling Tamblin always felt at his close attention.

"I needed information. Something Karkaroff might have known."

Dumbledore looked both expectant and genuinely curious. Tamblin debated a moment but he saw no harm in telling the Headmaster now.

"My mother said something, during our unpleasant reunion, that suggested that my father may not have been Victhen Demosthene."

"And who would your father have been, Tamblin?"

Tamblin just stared until a look of deep sadness crossed Dumbledore's features.

"Oh, Tamblin. And what did Karkaroff tell you?"

"Nothing, I never managed to work up the nerve to ask him directly before…. But it doesn't matter- I've decided that Victhen was my father. My mother is deranged and I give her words no credence."

Silence lasted a while.

"When do you want me to go to Azkaban? With the Patronus issue out of the way I can leave soon if you like."

"I'm gratified by your earnestness in repaying the boon. This matter is of great importance, but it may be best to wait until Christmas break when your absence may not pique the interest of others."

"Just as well, there are a few contingency measures I should arrange."

Dumbledore nodded.


	38. Chapter 38

November bled into December. The Saturday sessions were soon filled with virtually the whole fifth year Hufflepuff class. Tamblin felt that some of them were perhaps taking unfair advantage of his help, but the girls genuinely cared about their classmates so Tamblin said nothing.

After one of the sessions he held Cascata back. Susan and Hannah noticed and herded the other Hufflepuffs out of the classroom.

"I'm going to need a favor from you," he said to Cascata once the others were out.

She smiled. "I bet I know what it is," and she stepped up close to him.

He put out a hand to stop her gently. "No, not that. I mean, I'd _like_ that, but that's not what I have to talk to you about. I'm going to have to go away for a while-"

"Away? Where? When?"

"I can't say, after I get back I'll tell you all about it, I promise. Dumbledore needs a little help. Simple job, nothing to worry about, but it has to be done quietly. That's why he asked me."

"Okay. What do you need me to do? I could come with you, you've hidden me before."

"No. I need to withdraw very very far. I'm going to ask something very difficult. For the next two weeks I want you to see me as little as possible, think about me as little as possible. Try to forget me."

Cascata looked shocked.

"You're lying to me, Tamblin. If this was such a simple job you wouldn't need to go to this length. What does he want you to do? Steal You-Know-Who's wand?"

"Cas-"

"No. I won't do it. I'm your anchor. I'm not going to push you away. _You need me, Tamblin_ -"

He kissed her, only partly to head off her argument. "More than you know. But this is something I have to do, and I can't succeed unless you do as I ask."

She looked closely at him, measuring his will and the likelihood that she could persuade him away from this course of action. Eventually she swallowed and nodded.

"Try to forget I ever existed for now."

"I suppose a couple weeks away could be good for our relationship," she said mechanically. Her voice was strained. Then she hugged him close before walking out the door without a backwards glance.


	39. Chapter 39

On Sunday when he met with Susan he told her he was going to be gone for a bit and that it was important not to mention him to Cascata during that time, to try and help her keep from thinking about him as much as possible. Susan seemed dubious but agreed. Tamblin also emphasized that she would need to watch Cascata for any signs that his mother had caught her eye again. If Susan thought that had happened she should tell Dumbledore immediately. The idea of having something important to tell Dumbledore seemed to frighten and intrigue her and she concentrated even less on the History of Magic notes than usual. Tamblin again had that experience of knowing what she felt for a moment. Susan was experiencing a day dream of rushing up to the Headmaster's office with the critical news, and then being instrumental in saving her friend Cascata. Dumbledore himself would praise her and her Aunt Amelia would come to the school. There would be a special ceremony where she'd be given a small but meaningful medal for her important service to the school, followed by a feast and her Aunt would sit by her side at the Hufflepuff table and speak to her as an equal.

Susan shook her head and the connection broke. She looked over at him sheepishly, a most unusual expression on her.

"What's the matter," he asked.

"Nothing. Silly thoughts."

Tamblin was tempted to tell her that her Aunt speaking to her with respect was neither silly nor unlikely, but he had disturbed her when he'd told her about the last flash of insight he'd gotten. Truthfully these strange insights were disturbing him as well. He had studied the basic principles of legilimens as part of his work with Flitwick on memory magics. Could he somehow be using it without meaning to? It was supposed to be difficult magic and he'd never practiced it. Nor had he been holding his wand either time it had happened. And why with Susan both times? Was it mere chance?

It was Tamblin's turn to shake off his wandering thoughts and try to focus on the material.


	40. Chapter 40

"...so I need you to try and help Cascata not to think about me. Don't mention me, and try to get the other Hufflepuffs not to either. I wish they hadn't all started coming to the Saturday sessions, other than that most of them wouldn't even notice I was gone."

Hannah had her arms crossed in a manner much more reminiscent of Susan's stubbornness than her own usual genial manner.

"Where are you going, Tamblin? Don't tell me you can't say. We've been friends for four years and you never tell me anything. You tell Cascata and just use me and Susan to relay messages or not to her. 'Tell Cascata this.' 'Don't tell Cascata that.' 'Don't mention my mother to her.' 'Help her not think about me.'"

Tamblin gaped at Hannah's sudden outburst. He hadn't seen it coming at all. She took his silence as an excuse to tear on.

"We're your friends too, Tamblin. Damn it, it's been four years and you still hardly let me in at all. You keep secrets, you act alone, and you expect everyone else to just stand by and watch. We're not helpless. And Cascata is not the only one who cares about you!"

At this then she finally stopped and even looked flustered.

"Wow. I don't know quite what to say, Hannah." Tamblin tried to think of something to say to mollify her. "I didn't realize you felt that way and… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you-"

Hannah's stiff and angry body posture collapsed. She sighed deeply. "No, it's not your fault. I'm just really tense right now. Between being a prefect and the homework and other stuff, I'm not sleeping well. I didn't mean to take it out on you when you need my help. I _want_ to help."

"And you're rather vocal about that," he said and grinned.

She laughed. "Sorry about shouting at you." Then she looked serious. "You're doing something dangerous, aren't you?"

Tamblin made a quick calculation, weighing her hurt feeling versus the threat that Cascata would learn something from Hannah.

"Yes, I am, Hannah. Will it help if I tell you something I wouldn't even tell Cascata?"

Hannah looked taken aback and then nodded somberly.

"I'm going to Azkaban."

Her mouth dropped open.

"What for? They can't send you to Azkaban without a trial in front of the Wizengamot, Tamblin! Dumbledore will never stand for it. We can petition people, maybe Susan's Aun-"

But Tamblin held up his hand to stop her.

"I'm not being _sent_ to Azkaban, I'm _going_ there. I have to find something there and bring it back."

"You… you're breaking _in_ to Azkaban and then breaking out again?"

"Something like that."

"That's insane, and… and… and incredibly foolish, and… unbelievably dangerous!" She was looking at him with some mixture of reverence and deep concern.

"I can do it. I'm taking precautions, one of which is making sure Cascata doesn't think about me so I can withdraw further. I need you to help me with that. And I trust you, just you, with the knowledge of where I'm going."

"If you told Cascata there's no way she could help but worry," Hannah said.

Tamblin nodded. "I'm sorry I burdened you with this, like you said this year is already stressful enough without this on top of it."

She placed a hand on his arm. "No, it means a lot to me. Isn't there anything else I can do to help?" There was a pleading tone in her voice.

"Actually there might be. Can you think of a memory, something trivial, something you wouldn't mind losing?"

"I guess so, why?"

"I learned how to make memory tokens from Flitwick. It requires sacrificing a memory though. That memory is made into a token. When broken the person who donated the memory 'remembers' that they were supposed to do something and they may get a sense that it has something to do with the person breaking the token or the place it was broken."

"Weird. So you make a token from my memory…"

"And when I break it you'll have to get Cascata thinking about me to anchor me again. Do you think you can do that?"

Hannah just said, "When I was five I got a stuffed kangaroo for my birthday. My brother set it on fire a few days later. He always said it was an accident but we'd been fighting a lot. I could lose that memory."

Tamblin felt a small shock.

"I didn't know you had a brother. Why didn't I know that, Hannah?"

"I probably just never told you. I actually have three brothers but they're all quite a bit older than me. The youngest is five years older, he was here for his NEWTs when we were in our second year. He was in Gryffindor. Between that and the age difference we pretty much never saw each other at school. Not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," Tamblin replied with a certain firmness. "You're one of the dearest people to me in my life, and I've not taken the time to appreciate you."

She was blushing now. "Well I'm here whenever you want to talk or anything. Tamblin?"

"Yes?"

"Will you do me one favor?"

"What is it?"

"Come see me before you leave for Azkaban. Just please come say 'goodbye' first, alright? I don't care if it is the middle of the night."

Tamblin nodded.


	41. Chapter 41

In one respect Christmas would be a terrible time for his trip. Cascata would be all alone in the castle except for her sister. She'd have little to do but let her mind wander, and that was what she mustn't do.

Tamblin spoke with Susan and Dumbledore and managed to arrange for Cascata to go to the Bones' home for Christmas. He was grateful that she'd have a real Christmas for the first time in three years. He'd considered arranging it with Hannah but somehow sensed that he was putting enough strain on her, and that Hannah would do better to have some space for a while.

He continued to attend classes during those first weeks of December so as not to raise suspicions, which meant he saw a little of Cascata. They sat apart and he tried to take seats behind her so she wouldn't see him sitting up ahead. He had to give her credit that she really tried to keep from looking at him, even though every time their eyes met he could see how it was costing her. Weekends seemed much colder as he isolated himself. Susan had asked for a break from the Sunday sessions until the new year. He couldn't attend the Saturday sessions, even though a surprising number of Hufflepuffs had stopped him the halls to ask if he might. He gave himself over to work on the memory shield and his plans for it.

On a Saturday when he knew Cascata would be working with her fellow Hufflepuffs on the endless homework, he slipped into the Artiste's Alcove and into the painting room. He felt some guilt, this then was one of the secrets he'd kept from Hannah. Only he and Cascata had come here. He approached the Alchemirand in the rear of the room. Ignoring Phausto's protests he touched his wand to his temple, withdrawing a thin strand of silver. Gently he placed this in the bowl.

The bowl began to shake after a moment and the small pool of memory stuff in the bottom expanded and expanded until it filled to the brim.

Tamblin smiled; it had been a long shot and he'd not really expected this plan to work. Carefully he began dipping his wand in the Alchemirand, withdrawing single strands and putting them back to his temple. One after another. His head fairly buzzed with the multiplied memory by the time he had finished. It was strange having the same memory over and over again in his thoughts, as if he had experienced the same moment time and again.


	42. Chapter 42

The last day of classes for the term he received a note from Flitwick asking Tamblin to join him in his office. Tamblin had been in the Charms Professor's office many times; it had always been rampant with charmed objects that crept and flew around the not too large room. This time everything, every single object, was perfectly still and well behaved. Tamblin gaped.

"Come in, my boy," Flitwick trilled in his high pitched voice.

"Professor, is something wrong?" Tamblin asked still staring at the book cases, which were for once not trying to sidle away, books that were not flying around the room, chalk which was not creeping along the floor leaving a trail like some prismatic slug.

"No, not at all. I just thought, well I thought you might prefer the room a little more orderly."

Tamblin looked at his head of household. "You did this for me? That's extremely kind of you sir, but why?"

Flitwick smiled. "Tamblin, I know I shouldn't say such things, it's not fair to the others, but you really are one of my very favorites. Ever since your first day here I had a sense that you were exceptional, even among Ravenclaws, and that is saying something. I've greatly enjoyed your time here, and I think you have great potential in the future."

"Sir, this almost sounds like I'm being expelled."

"Good gracious, no! I just wanted to say that while I am not always in possession of all the facts of what goes on around here, I do consider myself rather astute. I know for instance if a student of mine has been through a difficult period, and I've seen you go through many. I also can generally guess when a student of mine is about to go through a difficult period. The world is changing and Hogwarts seems to be at the center of it, Tamblin. You seem to have a role to play in that." He looked glum. "These roles we get called on to play are not always happy ones and they are never easy. Just know that you have people who will help, if they can."

Tamblin found himself blushing. "Professor, you've always been very kind to me. I remember my first night here you staying in the infirmary to see that I was all right. And since then… well your wisdom has been of great help to me. I'm… well I'm truly touched by your concern. As for the road ahead I can't-"

Flitwick cut him off. "It's alright, my dear boy. I suspect you can't tell me what you have to do. Judging by Professor McGonagall's blood pressure I'm probably better off not knowing. Just be sure that if I can help you let me know." Flitwick beamed. "As for the room, well you have a very orderly mind, Tamblin, and I've gotten the sense that chaos disturbs you. It was a small matter to suspend the motion of my office for an hour. Meanwhile take this," and he withdrew a glass egg, lit from within by a silvery watery light, from his desk and handed it to Tamblin, "on the off chance you encounter a Dementor in the future it may distract it for a bit. Just smash the egg on to the ground."

Tamblin held the egg, it felt very warm to the touch. He tucked it carefully into a cloak pocket.

"Thank you, sir. This, all of it, means a great deal to me."

Flitwick nodded. "I expect to see you in class Jan 13th."

"Yes, sir," Tamblin said and before he left the room he held out his hand to Flitwick who shook it gently.


	43. Chapter 43

The Hogwarts Express would be leaving in less than an hour when Hannah slipped into the nearly deserted library. She found Tamblin by one of the study areas. He was having to make a concerted effort to be noticeable, anytime he lost focus he would naturally withdraw without meaning to. Hannah smiled at him but seemed on the verge of tears.

"I wanted to say 'goodbye.' I'll be leaving just after you all get on the train. I have the token," he said and he pulled what looked like a small slip of ivory, carved with the image of a kangaroo, out of a pocket. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

Hannah nodded her head, but as she did a tear spilled from each eye.

"I know Cascata would want you to have this," she said and she pulled him into a close hug. She rested her head on his shoulder a while and he stroked her back. Then she lifted her head to look at him closely.

"Tamblin, why did you give me a rose?"

"What? You mean at the Yule ball?"

She nodded. She was still hugging him so that their faces were just inches apart.

"I hated to see you unhappy, Hannah."

She nodded again and again small tears escaped. "You and Cascata looked so wonderful together, dancing and laughing." She seemed to have trouble swallowing for a second and she looked away from him. "I didn't want to go with Terry. I wanted to go with you."

"I know."

"I'm a terrible friend. To both of you." Now she was crying.

"You are not. Look, Hannah, you can't control feelings like that. You have to deal with them as best you can, and you have. You've been trying not to do anything to hurt Cascata. I know."

She looked back at him. "You can't know…"

"I do. Hannah, I _do_ know exactly what you are feeling."

She swallowed. "What are you saying?"

"I have great affection for Susan, and at one point I would say I had great affection for you too. Now I have to say that I feel more for you. Under other circumstances…"

She nodded. "Other circumstances. Yeah. Cascata's like a sister. I never had a sister before her and Susan."

She let go of him then and stepped back turning away from him.

"We should probably talk about this later. You have to catch your train."

She laughed. "Yeah, and you just have to get to Azkaban."

He put a hand on her shoulder and felt how she leaned into it.

"Tamblin?"

"Yes?"

"There's something else Cascata would want you to have."

She turned back to him. Tamblin could see it coming in slow motion but he couldn't find the will to stop it. Hannah stepped up to him again. This time one arm went around his waist and the fingers of the other slid into his hair. She gently pulled his face down to hers and kissed him passionately. He kissed her back for what seemed a short eternity and then started to pull back away. She rose up onto her tiptoes to keep the contact as long as she could.

She stayed there- head tipped back, eyes closed, lips inviting him to return to the embrace- just long enough for his resolve to begin to crack before she stepped back.

"Do you remember our kiss before the Yule Ball," she asked dreamily.

He nodded. She smiled shyly.

"Good luck, Tamblin. Please come back safely. We can sort this all out. Just come back and we'll figure it out. Please."

And then she left, the fingertips of one hand on her lips. Tamblin felt mirror image pangs of guilt and desire as she walked away.


	44. Chapter 44

He stopped fighting the urge to withdraw. In an instant he was gone. A wraith flitted out of the library, down the stairs. He could see the students getting ready to leave for the train in the great hall. He could see Cascata and Susan talking animatedly while Hannah stood a little ways off not looking at them. Then he was out on the grounds. He was moving quickly, running without effort.

Azkaban was somewhere in the North Sea and he honestly had no idea how he was going to reach it, but it wasn't his first stop anyway. There was one more contingency to put in place if he could.

For the last week he had felt a pull to leave the castle, a strong desire to get outdoors, away from everyone. He'd felt this before as a symptom of being too long apart from his anchor. This time though he though he could feel a thread in it, a desire not just to get away from others but a more subtle desire to go towards something. And he thought he knew what that thing was.

He moved quickly over the country side, and as he did so the colors of the world faded to muted grays. He didn't feel hungry or tired. He didn't feel air in his lungs or blood in his veins. He felt the temptation of just letting go of all else and surrendering to the freedom. He was prepared for that and he focused on that thread that pulled him southwest. He ran and ran. His connection to the world became more and more tenuous. He ran through cities full of muggles. He ran through forests and over mountains. He ran over swamps and his feet didn't sink. And suddenly he stopped.

He was standing on a high flat plateau surrounded by the most impossibly huge mountains. And all of it was in incredibly rich vibrant color. The vividness of the hues shocked him. He had started to forget the world was normally not just gray.

What's more, the plateau resembled no place in England. The island had never seen mountains like these, nor did it have plateaus so high that the air was thin. Tamblin found he needed to breathe and he gasped at the rarefied atmosphere for some minutes before he recovered enough to move. In the center of the plateau was a city of peculiar appearance. No two buildings were alike in style or manner. A long hall, which looked like it might have housed Vikings, sat next to a saloon in the style of early America. A grass hut stood on the other side, although looking around it was clear that no such long grasses grew within a hundred miles of this place. There was a small skyscraper in modern muggle style, and what looked like a gothic cathedral. Every building looked well preserved but also thoroughly desolate, as if no soul had occupied them within decades, if not centuries.

As he passed carefully into the town everything else changed. The town remained as it was but it stood now on a small island surrounded by a temperamental sea. Tamblin could see off to his right a rocky shore line where crashing waves sent sea spray shooting into the air every few seconds. The air that had been thin and cold was now warm and muggy, tasting of sea salt. Only a breeze off the ocean kept the atmosphere from becoming oppressive and smothering. Tamblin could only stare. Every few minutes the place would change. The buildings themselves mostly remained, although he did notice a few vanish and new ones appear, but the settings varied tremendously. There were high plateaus, foggy islands, shadowed valleys, steaming jungles, bleak swamps, windswept plains, snow covered forests. He never recognized exactly the same place twice even though he did nothing but watch for the space of half an hour.

When he started to move again he stopped at once because he found himself surrounded by people. They stood in a loose ring around him. He estimated there to be forty or more of them. Though each stared at him, none spoke, nor made any gesture, either threatening or welcoming. Tamblin stood very still and quiet, sensing that that was best. After some time a second group of people appeared from nowhere and passed through the ring of the first group. This second group seemed more welcoming than the first but their appearance was so peculiar that Tamblin hardly noticed. Each had the form and manner of a normal person but they did not keep that manner. As they moved they shifted from person to person becoming one then another in the space of heartbeats. More disturbing was that they did not become new people but instead the same appearances shifted back and forth through the group. There was a girl who looked to be about 13 with dark brown braids. Tamblin saw her in the front row of the second crowd, then in the back, then to one side, then in the front again. There was always one of her, but the form flowed from one member of the group to another with no apparent pattern.

The second group stopped just inside the ring, except for one who came closer to Tamblin and raised a hand to him.

"Welcome, Tamblin. You will not be harmed, so long as you mean no harm."

As the being said these words its form shifted from a dark skinned man, who was gaunt and tall, to a balding pale man, whose face was half covered in burns, to a woman who looked to be from south east asia and whose left eye drooped noticeably at the outer edge.

"What… what is this place?"

"It has no proper name, for those who live here cannot give it one. Outsiders have called it many things."

From the second group a number of voices issued forth.

"Roanoke."

"Shangri-La."

"Brigadoon."

"Atlantis."

The first of the second group spoke again. "These are the empty places, Tamblin, and we are they that live in them."


	45. Chapter 45

"I felt drawn here. Did you do that," Tamblin asked the one he thought of as a leader.

"The power drew you here, as it drew us all here. Our action was in allowing you to find it."

Tamblin looked over the two groups. Something Karkaroff said came back to him.

"Those over there," and Tamblin pointed to the silent ones who had first ringed him, and who continued to impassively, "they're Invisibles, right?"

"They have been called that by others."

Tamblin nodded. "And you, you're… you've been called by others 'the Faceless?'"

The being nodded. It had passed through all of the various faces of the group already and was repeating them in an endless loop, although the order changed.

"It was one of you who warned me, one of your group, that told me that Cascata wasn't imagining things, that my mother had come back. I don't know if I could have stopped her in time without that help. Thank you."

"Your mother was becoming a threat to us. Riddle stole secrets but didn't really understand them. He taught his students a stunted and poor form of the power. They posed no threat to us, because they were too clumsy to sense us, so we did not interfere. When your mother was lost in the grey she did sense us, but her skills were not enough to threaten us, and so we did not interfere. But when she began to build the bridge back to the world through your connection, she became a threat. She had knowledge of us that she could spread to outsiders. She could not be reasoned with in her madness. We could have destroyed her but it was less intrusive merely to thwart her and cast her back into helplessness."

There was a certain cold calculus to the reasoning that made Tamblin shiver. "So you contacted me?"

"Yes. You were aware of the power, at least peripherally, so the exposure was limited. We swore you to secrecy regarding our existence and we believed you capable of maintaining that pledge."

"I have. I've told no one about your existence."

"We know."

"You've been watching?"

"Of course. Watching is what we do."

"Why?"

The faceless just stared at him.

"I mean to what end? You watch to learn, but what do you do with that knowledge?"

"We watch. As needs be we interfere to keep the secret of our places and our existence. That is all."

Tamblin shook his head. "That can't be all. You mean you do nothing whatsoever but watch?"

The Faceless nodded.

"If you saw a murder about to take place you would do nothing?"

"We have seen every crime possible committed by the outside world. It is not our place or intention to interfere. We wish merely the freedom of our existence. We protect that freedom but otherwise we watch."

Tamblin looked at the faces before and around him. None of them seemed remotely ashamed of this view.

"Then why am I here? Why did you help me find this place?"

"You could become a threat to us. You weren't trained by the thief Riddle but came to the power by accident of birth. That is not unheard of, and we have some measure of sympathy with your position."

Hearing that cold emotionless voice speak of sympathy filled Tamblin with suspicion.

"Your gift is strong but poorly trained. You have had only instinct and the crude researches of Dumbledore to guide you. Still you will soon be strong enough to enter the empty places without our help, and you know of our existence."

"Are we enemies then? Do you mean to consign me to my mother's madness?"

"We will take no action against you unless you do against us. There is a better option- you can join us."

"What?"

"You can leave the outside world behind and live here, among us. We can teach you to use your power, to really use it. You will be a living witness to man's history and existence. All it requires is the sacrifice of the clumsy painful life among the outsiders."

"You mean I couldn't go back. Ever?"

"Certainly to watch, but not to interact. Not unless a threat must be countered."

"But that's… How would I survive? You mean to tell me none of you go back to spend time with your anchor? I don't even know if the Faceless need anchors but what about them," and Tamblin again pointed at the ring of Invisibles.

The faceless smiled, all of them, all at once. The Invisibles remained as impassive as ever.

"Only the beginning student needs an anchor to an outsider. Riddle stole only our most basic secrets. We anchor each other. The 'Invisibles' here see each other and keep each other from being lost to the gray. We 'Faceless' form a chorus, pooling our identities to share and nurturing them against the loss. You can be much more than you are Tamblin, your gift can be nurtured, but only by us, none other has the knowledge."

"How can you be sure?"

"There's nothing we choose to know that escapes us. There are no secrets that we are not free to hear. The lusts and hatreds and guilts of your innermost heart are freely known to us. We are you. We feel everything you do. We are everyone. We feel what they all do. We are everywhere, unseen and unheard. We walk through the most secure halls of power with ease. We listen to conspired whispers in the black of night."

The faceless cocked his head slightly.

"We see boys kissing girls between library shelves."

And for the first time Tamblin heard the faintest echo of emotion in the voices, just a hint of teasing. Like some forgotten reflex, barely triggered.

"When we say none other has the knowledge, believe us."

"Do you know the mission I am on?"

"Of course."

"You know the information I go to take?"

"Of course."

"You could tell me right now what I wanted to know?"

"Of course."

"But you won't, will you?"

"No. You still retain affection for the outside world. We do not. And we will take no hand in shaping those events that do not affect us."

Tamblin nodded grimly.

"I have a favor to ask, or rather a suggestion to make-"

The Faceless interrupted, "we know the thing you mean to ask, and we will consider which path best serves our interests."

Tamblin looked around at the empty places and the people who live there.

"I never expected… I knew there were others somewhere that had the power, and when I felt the call I suspected it might be them. I didn't expect this though."

"Good. If knowing of the power, and even having hints to our existence, you did not suspect such as us, then we are well guarded from others."

Tamblin thought for a second. "Thank you for the help with my mother. I know you did it for your own sake but it made a big difference to me and the people I care about. Thank you."

The Faceless was impassive. "Thanking us is not required."

Tamblin flashed back to a younger him saying something similar to an astonished classmate his first year at Hogwarts. He wondered how much of his own distant personality and apparent coldness came from the power. And he worried that he might by degrees become like the beings before him- utterly alienated from the fellow man.

The Faceless were watching him and it gave him a peculiar creeping sensation to suspect they were experiencing his every critical thought about them.

"How do I leave this place," he asked. "And where will I find myself?"

"We will help you. You may leave it anywhere you wish."

"Even-"

"Yes, if you wish, you may step from this place directly to Azkaban."

Tamblin nodded.

"Walk towards me," the Faceless said.

Tamblin took one step.

He stood on a jagged spur of rock in a stormy sea. The rock was one of a cluster of similar pieces in a row. They may have all been connected at one point. The waters, the rock, and the sky were a colorless gray and the shock of the transition struck him again. The wind was fierce and should have blown him easily from his narrow perch but he barely even felt it. Similarly the icy rain should have chilled him, but the power made him inured to such concerns. The rock he stood on was barely ten feet long and two wide. It was a dark basalt-like material. Thirty feet before him stood another rock twice the size of the one he stood on. A hundred feet further on was a towering spike of black basalt that loomed hundreds of feet into the air.

Azkaban.

If he looked up in the sky he could just make out the shapes of cloaked figures flying patterns around the pinnacle of basalt. As withdrawn as he was it was difficult to make out the dark forms of the dementors against the only slightly lighter gray of the stormy sky.


	46. Chapter 46

Tamblin walked to the edge of the rock he had appeared on. The waters between him and the next piece of basalt swelled and rocked violently. He cautiously stepped out onto the water and did not sink. As he slowly walked to the next spur of basalt he was reminded of the boat he had ridden across the Hogwarts lake his first year. The crossing had terrified him. He'd always felt panicked by deep waters before. In a flash he realized that it was the subconscious fear of feeling un-tethered, un- _anchored_ , that had bothered him. His subconscious had been warning him about the future. Understanding of the fear proved a remedy to its effect. He walked upon the face of an angry ocean, gingerly, but without fear of the water.

A flash of lightning illuminated the scene, enough for him to see the Dementors easily as well as dark shapes moving through the waters beneath his feet. Instinctively he froze at the flash of light, even though he was far too withdrawn to be noticed regardless of how bright the situation. Tamblin moved on when the lightning faded. He reached the second spur of rock. From where he stood he could see an opening in the basalt spire of Azkaban- at the top. He made his way to the base of the spire. Carefully he circled the it, but there were no other openings that he could find. Tamblin moved smoothly back as something fell from the opening. It fluttered on it's way down like a dying bird. It seemed to take a long time to hit the sea. When it did it threw up a huge splash. Before it sank below the waters Tamblin recognized a pale man's face peeking out of a crudely wrapped shroud. The face betrayed a life of hardship with sunken cheeks and eyes. The body quickly disappeared beneath the raging water.

"Burial at sea," Tamblin whispered before turning back to the task at hand. There was no choice but to climb the spire. The rock offered small handholds. Tamblin began to climb.


	47. Chapter 47

The spire seemed endless. The climb would have been impossible were he not withdrawn. Withdrawn, the wind that would have torn him off the cliff face could find no purchase. The cold could not reach him. His muscles didn't feel fatigue nor did his lungs strain for air. Even the hopelessness that the Dementors radiated was muted and weaker.

Tamblin climbed slowly. Time was hard to judge while deeply withdrawn. Several times he startled out of a reverie with no idea how long he had hung there vacantly, nor any idea what thoughts he had had while in his fugue. Each time he resolved to focus more. Clinging to a rainswept cliff face a hundred feet above the North Sea was not a place he thought he would have trouble focusing on the matter at hand, but the strain of staying withdrawn was affecting him. He felt the impulse to flee towards freedom strongly.

He kept climbing in fits and starts. Without the need for sleep or food or rest it was impossible to determine how long he had been climbing. Time passed in unrecognized measures. More than once he came out of a reverie to find it was daytime. The miserable weather of the North Sea, made worse by so many dementors, meant that daytime was barely brighter than night. The difference could really only be seen at the horizons, as if the light of day were chased a world away from this place. The climb continued.

Tamblin approached the opening just under the pinnacle of the spire. The circling dementors were not far away now and Tamblin moved carefully so as not to let them detect him. If they scented him out now, fingertips wedged into slippery rock three hundred feet above the cold sea, he would have nowhere to run.

Tamblin hauled himself up into the opening in the rock face. As he drew himself up he found himself face to face with a dementor. The thing carried a sheet wrapped parcel that could only be one thing. Tamblin stood perfectly still mere inches in front of the thing Its breath was fetid and terrible. Tamblin's eyes watered and his stomach roiled. Slowly he slipped back against the side of the passage. At his motion the dementor sniffed the air uncertainly for a minute before giving up and hauling its burden to the cave opening to dump. Tamblin didn't move until the dementor had gone.

When he did begin to move again, he was surprised by the most unlikely of things- a visitor's information booth. There against one side of the rough hewn hallway stood a small kiosk with racks of pamphlets designed to inform the reader on the history of Azkaban, visitor protocol, how to inquire about the release date of a prisoner, and so on. Tamblin stared in dumb amazement for a little while and then pulled half a dozen pamphlets out. In each case he found that the pamphlet in front had faded from long exposure to even the meager light of Azkaban. The visitor's kiosk had not seen much use.

Rifling through the pamphlets he found a few pieces of useful information.

 _Azkaban was built originally to hold a population of only five score. As the prison became world renown for its security and deterrence effect, other facilities were closed and Azkaban had to be expanded. The oldest levels at the bottom of the prison are now only used for prisoners serving life sentences. Short term prisoners are housed in the highest and most modern levels. Prisoners who commit further infractions are removed to lower levels. Prisoners soon to be released move up to higher levels. This management scheme has positive psychological impact on prisoners who come to associate moving up with positive behavior or freedom, and falling down with negative behavior and subsequent terror._

Read one. And another:

 _For obvious reasons Apparition within Azkaban is strictly controlled. Fun fact- house elves owned by the ministry are used to make and bring in the many hundreds of meals made for Azkaban prisoners each day. Wands too are strictly controlled and all visitors must leave their wands with the Ministry administration center upon entering Azkaban. All visitors are cautioned to remain with an Azkaban administrator so as to avoid any unfortunate accidents with the dementors._

And another:

 _Did you know the entire population of Hogsmeade could easily fit in Azkaban prison? Thirteen penal levels are currently used with proposals to extend the number by another half dozen in consideration by the Ministry of Magic. Azkaban has held some of the most notorious wizards and witches of the age and treated them to fair and just accounting for their actions so that all may live in an orderly society._

Tamblin stuffed the pamphlets into a pocket. Just past the kiosk was a formidable-looking wall broken only by a small window and an archway. The archway was filled with expanding circles of light that most resembled the ripples in a disturbed pond. Above the window a message carved in the rock exclaimed- SURRENDER ALL WANDS!

Tamblin gingerly touched the ripples in the archway. He felt nothing but a slight tingle. Stepping through he felt the slightest tug at his bloodwand. Past the archway the tunnel led to several doors marked "Official staff ONLY." These doors were locked. Past them was a round room with round hole in the floor. Floating in the middle of this hole was an octagonal platform with railing on six of the sides. Tamblin figured it was an elevator of some sort but there was no obvious control. If it required a wand to control that would help secure it from use by the prisoners. Tamblin would have to come back to the world to use the lift, as withdrawn as he was he couldn't work any magic. Coming back to the world meant being vulnerable to the dementors. He had to maintain his stealth as long as possible.

The platform didn't eclipse the entire shaft beneath it and Tamblin was able to peer down through the gap. Lights below revealed a series of lower levels. Tamblin looked around. He thought he might be able to squeeze through the gap between the platform and the surrounding floor, but he didn't relish the drop. The sides of the shaft were polished smooth as glass to prevent prisoners trying to scale up from the lower levels. He couldn't make out any definite bottom but it looked to be a couple hundred feet at a minimum.

There didn't appear to be any other exits off of this floor except the way he had come. Forcing the employee only doors physically might be possible, but that would surely set off alarms and attract the dementors. It was the shaft or nothing.

Tamblin wished he had brought rope. It was too easy to assume the magic would always be available. He tried to make a mental note to consider that later but it was difficult with his head crammed with memories and the constant distraction of the grey lands. He tried hard to focus on the task at hand. He had to get down off this level.

Tamblin pulled the belt off of his robe. He pulled it hard between his hands to test the strength. It felt firm but it'd take a lot more tension when he hung from it. The railings had a crossbar a couple inches above the floor of the platform. He pushed and pulled on the railing and it too felt firm. Knotting one end of the belt as well as he could to the lower bar of the railing, he wrapped the other end around his right wrist. Carefully Tamblin squeezed between the floating platform and the edge of the shaft until he was hanging by his hands off the platform. He let go with his right hand from the platform to get a firm grip on the belt just a few inches below where it knotted to the railing. He took a deep breath, unneeded in his current state, but the habit remained. He let go of the platform with his left hand and grabbed on to the belt. He slipped a bit lower as the knot tightened further. The railing above him creaked as he lowered himself hand by hand down to the end of the belt.

The top of the entrance to the next level was at his waist level once he was literally at the end of his rope. Tamblin swung his legs toward the entrance. Back and forth, trying to ignore the continued creaking of the railing as he swung. He built up as much momentum as possible and forced his hands to let go.

He flew at the entrance. His toes caught at the bottom lip so that he sprawled face first onto the second floor landing with his feet hanging out over the edge. It was not a particularly dignified entrance but at least he had made it, and he had the comfort of knowing no one could have seen him land on his face. The next step was the question. He had no obvious means of scaling further down the shaft. His target was supposed to be serving a life sentence and thus near or at the bottom of the prison. He would simply have to search the level for some means to get further down.


	48. Chapter 48

Tamblin looked around him. The décor was not at all what he had expected. The walls appeared to be made of painted brick. The floor was tiled. Naked light bulbs were mounted in the ceiling and glowed despite a lack of electrical wiring. The walls were set with cells. The door to each cell was made of steel bars in similar style to muggle prisons. Tamblin could look in through these bars at the cells beyond. Each was about ten feet square and appointed with a small cot and a toilet, although this last object had no plumbing connected to it. The feeling of the dementors was much stronger here. Tamblin could feel it much more even though he was still withdrawn.

He began exploring the level. A number of the cells were occupied. Most of these witches and wizards were sleeping. Of those who were sleeping none seemed to be resting well. They tossed and moaned pitifully in the throes of their nightmares. The few who were still awake sat on their cots and stared into space. Tamblin found himself staring back into their eyes often.

Once he had another flash of insight as he had with Susan. He was looking into the eyes of a man who looked to have led a hard life and then Tamblin knew exactly how the man's life had unfolded. He could remember the turns as if he had himself been there, and he could feel his current crushing hopelessness. Being withdrawn was no defense against feeling the desolation through another and he fled from it.

He found several places where the masoned walls ended and exposed a stretch of rough surrounding basalt. These areas were honeycombed with small holes just large enough that Tamblin might have fit his fist into them. At first Tamblin though the holes might have been to provide ventilation to the level but there was no airflow from the honeycombed walls. There was something ominous about those holes leading off into the blackness of the rock. Tamblin thought if he listened very carefully he could hear slight sounds coming from them.

He searched the rest of the level and finally found an intersection of hallways that formed a square. In the center of the square was a hole on the floor. Looking through the hole he could see the next level down. Around the edge of the hole floated words that said:

 _Infractions by prisoners will lead to incarceration in lower levels of the prison and extension of their sentence_.

Tamblin jumped.


	49. Chapter 49

As he fell fifteen feet or so he felt a gentle force cushion his fall. When he reached the bottom he tried to jump towards the next level up and felt this same force push him back down. Most likely he'd have to find a different way back up than he had used to get down.

This floor resembled the last. The square he'd fallen into was very similar to the one he'd just left except that this square had no hole in the floor. Tamblin searched the new floor. It should have taken him no time to explore the level but he caught himself slipping into reverie again. He was having trouble keeping track of time, and keeping track of his purpose. In time he found the hole leading to the next level. The third level again had the aspect of a muggle prison. Tamblin thought the bare rock sections honeycombed with holes might have become more common.

He found the hole leading to the third level and the fourth. Each floor the same. The same cells, same faces except each level down the expressions became just that much more haunted and desperate. The fifth floor was different.

The floors were no longer tiled but laid bricks. The walls too were lined with bricks but these were no longer painted. Instead of the naked light bulbs there were wall sconces with torches that burned without producing heat or smoke. The cells too were changed. The straight steel bars were replaced by twisted wrought iron. The cells were rougher, the cots more shabby and the toilets replaced by dingy dented chamber pots. The prisoners too were rougher looking, more hopeless, their spirits squeezed smaller.

Tamblin searched the level. The corridors above had been straight with neat corners at intersections. Here they tried to be straight but ended up crooked like a child's drawing of a line. There were more of those bare sections down here. He found the pit leading to the next level. The pit was still just a hole but around the hole was a different message. Around the hole written in what appeared to be shadows were the following words:

Obey the rules. The depths otherwise.

The sixth level resembled the fifth.


	50. Chapter 50

Tamblin found himself staring at an elderly witch. He thought for a moment that she was staring back, but her eyes were empty. She was looking through him, past him, at nothing. The woman's mouth seemed to droop on the left side giving her a permanent grimace. She sat on the edge of her cot, her shoulders stooped and her body posture turned inward. Tamblin moved up against the twisted metal cell door. He was close enough to count the lines on her face. He did so, studying every minute detail of her face, her posture, and so on. He spent what felt like forever watching her.

There was something buzzing in his head. He closed his eyes and the images drifted up. He saw Dumbledore saying "Barnaby Digdon" and "Azkaban." He heard it echoing over and over like he had heard the words repeated over and over, like his head was filled with the memory until it was about to burst. The buzzing was making his head throb. He hated it. Dumbledore's face kept appearing out of the memories, nagging at him. He wished the old man would just shut up and leave him alone. But it wasn't going to stop until he did its bidding. Tamblin left the woman staring into space.


	51. Chapter 51

The seventh level must have been built at the same time as the fifth and sixth and was designed the same. He searched this level for the next hole leading down. They seemed to be randomly placed on each level. Each level down the oppression got worse. It bled more and more into him even through the stillness of the power. The vacant prisoners seemed more and more contemptible to Tamblin. He hated their broken spirits and slack faces. He was getting very sick of searching each level of this oubliette for a way to get deeper. He was sick of creeping through one corridor after another, looking into one cell after another. And he was really beginning to hate the image of Dumbledore demanding things from him.

The seventh floor was also the first time he saw a dementor inside the penal levels. The creature was just floating through the corridors. Inmates shuddered and pressed as far back into their cells as they could when it passed. It paused briefly after it swept by Tamblin. The monster's head turned and Tamblin could hear it sniff at the still air. It moved on though, unable to find him.

Starting at the eighth level the design was different again. The uniform brick walls were replaced by crudely masoned limestone and the floor now covered with flagstones. The cell doors were stout wood with small barred windows in them. The sections of bare wall with the holes were getting more common. Crudely carved sconces held fat candles. Tamblin stared at them for a while. As the tallow at the top melted it flowed down the sides and then under the candle, pushing the rest up and forming a new layer at the bottom so that they got no shorter. The tunnels here made no attempt at being straight but wormed through the rock chaotically. He saw more dementors on this level, again just floating around.

It took much longer to find the hole leading to the ninth level. The twisted passages made it hard to search efficiently. There were many dead ends and passages that looped back on themselves. He started to wonder if there would be another hole down at all when he found it. This time the message was carved directly into the rock:

 _Submit, or the devil take ye._

He fell through the opening and landed hard. There were no spells here to cushion the fall. When he tested, Tamblin found there were still spells to prevent his moving up through the hole.

The prisoners this far down appeared catatonic mainly, driven to senselessness by the need to escape their existence. A few appeared to have lost all control of bodily functions.

As Tamblin passed a section of holed rock he thought he again heard a sound from within. Tamblin peered closely into the gloom. He leaned in closer to the hole where the noise was loudest. There was the slightest rush of air by way of warning. Tamblin threw himself aside as a dementor emerged from the hole. The dementor expanded greatly from a compacted state thin enough to move through the holes in the basalt. Tamblin realized with horror that the whole rocky pinnacle that made up the prison must be a rookery for the dementors, honeycombed with passages for the things to pass through.

He waited for the thing to move on so that he could find a way deeper into the dementor's nest.


	52. Chapter 52

The tenth and eleventh levels down were similar to the eighth and ninth except for the ever increasing oppression, the greater number of dementors in the hallways, and the greater frequency of the openings to the dementor nests.

The twelfth level must have been among the oldest. The walls and floor were merely rough hewn rock. There were no longer locked cells, merely crude alcoves. The prisoners could roam the level, but most were too traumatized and simply cowered in their alcoves. The other place he found prisoners congregated was near small shafts located a couple places on the level. In these places a great mass of prisoners laid together, sometimes struggling over position closest to the shaft. These shafts were meant to allow fresh air to reach the lower levels. It was weak and intermittent, but when a gust of sea smelling air came through the mass of prisoners moaned pitifully.

Tamblin started from another reverie. It was impossible to tell how much time he spent catatonic. It could be minutes or weeks. Each time the memory of Dumbledore buzzed achingly in his head, finally overcoming his inertia.

"Barnaby Digdon," Dumbledore would say over and over again. "Find Digdon. Retrieve the memories. Find him. Find him. Digdon."

Tamblin pressed his fingers hard against his temple.

He was trying to keep his head from bursting when he noticed something that distracted him from his pounding head ache. He was looking at a prisoner, a woman in filthy rags that had once been an expensive robe. An expensive orange robe, some of the original color still peeked through the dirt.

 _And Tamblin could see it._

It was faint, to be sure, but there was no doubt he was seeing the color. Tamblin tried to work out how that could be, but he couldn't focus his thoughts. The withdrawal and his crowded memories were making logical thought nearly impossible.

Withdrawal.

As he'd descended through the levels of Azkaban color had slowly and only slightly seeped back into the world. Which meant… what? He wasn't as withdrawn as he had been. Except he could feel that he was. He'd not come back to the world. He wondered what it could mean but frustration and the memories pushed him on towards his goal.

The hole leading down to the thirteenth level, the last of Azkaban, was only vaguely circular. Scratched into the rock were shaky letters saying:

 _The mouth of Hell_

Tamblin let himself be swallowed by it..


	53. Chapter 53

The thirteenth level was far different than those above. Some of the tunnels were rough hewn rock like those of the twelfth, others were different. Tunnels, lined with oddly shaped interlocking stones, connected at strange angles. On closer examination these stones were carved with pictograms and ideographs like none he'd seen before. He couldn't be sure because of the wearing of countless ages, but no two stones seemed to have the exact same hieroglyphs. These passages he suspected were lined with narratives, or histories, although of what nature he couldn't guess.

The thirteenth was the only level where the openings to the dementor's nests were not set into blank walls. The interlocking stones surrounded and lined these holes. In the rough hewn areas there were alcoves as with the previous level. The story tunnels, as Tamblin came to think of them, had no cells or alcoves, but there were irregular rooms of no clear purpose.

The dementor's aura created a physical presence on this last level, as if the weight of all the levels above were pressing down on each and every prisoner. Despite this the prisoners of the last level weren't as crushed as some of those above. Many were catatonic, crammed into the furthest recess of a rough stone alcove, or supine in the alien rooms. Others showed a surprising amount of activity. These prisoners seemed possessed of a strange energy drawn from the oppression. They moved with strength, but not vigor, like a fevered patient whose illness drives them to move. They had made their peace, or deal, with the devil.

Down one hallway Tamblin found a wide bodied man with a dementor. The man was not cringing away from the thing, or trying to ignore it, but _speaking_ to it in the manner of equals. The man looked worn down but not beaten. His robes were shabby and clearly those of a prisoner. The dementor floated before him. Tamblin watched this exchange until the two of them suddenly disappeared. Tamblin started until he realized that the two had not disapparated. Tamblin had drifted off into reverie again while the man and dementor finished whatever business they had.

The level stretched on and on, seeming far too large for the rock it was built into, as Tamblin searched for the face that Dumbledore had shown him. He found the man Digdon in an alcove leaning against a rock wall. The face was recognizable, despite being far more sallow and withered than in the picture Dumbledore had shown him from the Daily Prophet. That picture swam before Tamblin's eyes, multiplied a hundred fold by the alchemirand. Tamblin tried to focus on the real face amid the swirling younger versions in his memory. The man had grayish black hair and a long rectangular face that had a texture like drift wood. His lean frame sat straight but his large head leaned over to the side like it was too heavy for his narrow neck to support. Digdon's eyes were unfocused but not empty. There was still a spark of presence in them, buried deep under the weight of Azkaban.

Tamblin noticed again that he could see color on Digdon where he should not. He was closer to the world that Digdon was in than he should have been. Still it was not close enough for him to draw the memories from the man's mind. Tamblin would have to be much closer, much less withdrawn, for that. As a dementor swept by the entrance of the alcove, Tamblin thought hard about how to do it safely.

The problem was one of attention, and that was a topic Tamblin considered himself an expert in. He couldn't hide while he got what he needed. And if he couldn't hide from them, he'd just have to make sure they were looking the other way. Tamblin located the central shaft, found the fastest route from the shaft to Digdon's alcove and then traveled further along that line until he found a small cluster of alcoves with three prisoners between them. Most importantly, he passed no areas with openings to the dementor nest between the central shaft and the place he intended to set his diversion. He didn't want them between the diversion and Digdon, or Digdon and the shaft.

He needed to work a little magic. Nothing as hard as what he'd have to do with Digdon. Something easier, something he wouldn't have to come as far back for. Tamblin focused. He wrestled with the power, trying to leash it again. It took long minutes before he saw the faint colors become more vibrant and spread. Tamblin took out his bloodwand, pointed it at the nearest prisoner, an old man with loose lips tightly clamped in a permanent grimace.

Tamblin's voice came out in a croak. "Ecphoria."

The man's face twitched as the spell caused him to recall a memory in which he had been truly happy. His lips came unsealed, the bottom hanging limply. He made a low moaning sound. His face turned upward, tears running down from each eye. The man's slack lips began to tremble. Tamblin watched in fascination as the man's facial muscles tremble with an unfamiliar strain, slowly pulling the edges of his mouth up into a gruesome smile. The man continued to make a wheezing croak that broke up into sobs as he experienced happiness for the first time in what must have been decades.

Tamblin turned on the other two prisoners casting the same spell. He didn't stop to watch the effect, the dementor's would soon scent hope or happiness where none should be. They would be coming.

He slid down the hallway towards Digdon. He moved much more carefully now that he was less withdrawn. The dementors would smell him if he got close. At least prying himself a little from the grey helped his thoughts clear a bit.

Digdon looked to be in exactly the same place. Tamblin grit his teeth and clenched his fists forcing himself by will alone to be visible. The strain made his already aching head feel like it would split entirely. He bent over shoving his fists against his temples to hold his skull together. When Tamblin straightened up, Digdon had more color and was looking right at him.

"At last, you're here." Digdon said without surprise.


	54. Chapter 54

"Barnaby Digdon," Tamblin wheezed.

The man nodded his weathered face.

"I'm here-" Tamblin started.

"There's only one thing you could be here for," the man interrupted.

Digdon's expression was impossible to read for a moment before it too changed into a tortured and difficult smile.

"At last I can die."

"I don't have much time," Tamblin said and he touched his wand to his temple. Tamblin pulled the wand away, drawing with it a silver strand of memory. He shook his wand slightly, causing the memory to fall to the ground where it dissipated immediately. Tamblin did this again and again, removing the extra memories. Without them he might not find his way back from reverie, but Tamblin was sure he could not take any more memories until he emptied his head a little.

It wasn't until he was nearly done that he noticed the look on Digdon's face. It was an expression of revulsion and barely contained rage. The man drew himself up to his full height. Tamblin, tall hmself, was surprised to find the man loomed over him, gaunt and scarecrow like.

"To the lift," He said. "I'll give you what you came for on the way up." He must have seen the protest on Tamblin's face. "I'll not die in this hell."

Tamblin looked up at the man who had been sent to Azkaban for two murders. Carefully he backed out of the alcove and gestured for Digdon to stay in front. Digdon came out of his cell, his bones creaking and joints popping. He moved steadily towards the central shaft, if not as quickly as Tamblin would have liked. Tamblin followed, his wand pointed at Digdon's back even as he frequently looked over his shoulder for the dementors who might already be coming.

As he passed an alcove Tamblin glanced within and locked eyes briefly with the wide set man he'd seen earlier speaking to the dementor. The man's eyes narrowed, and he nodded just slightly at Tamblin.


	55. Chapter 55

Tamblin pointed his wand up the central shaft. "Accio lift." He felt a slight tug at his wand that suggested the magic had connected. Immediately he pointed the wand back at Digdon. So far Digdon had made no threatening move. Tamblin meant to keep it that way.

"So Dumbledore gets what he wanted," Digdon said, his voice dripping with bitterness. "Better late than never, I suppose."

Tamblin tried to watch the man and the passage they'd come through both.

"You have the memories?" Tamblin asked.

"I have them. I took them, stole them and kept them safe. I was in your place." Digdon laughed. "You'll be in mine someday."

There was a scream that echoed down the corridor they had come from. The sound was horrible.

"That's the kiss. They only make _that_ sound at the kiss." Digdon ran a hand through his hair. "They'll be coming soon."

Tamblin squinted up into the central shaft and he could see the oval of the lift platform but not nearly close enough as far as Tamblin was concerned.

"I need those memories."

Digdon seemed unnaturally calm. "Plenty of time on the way up."

"Why were you expecting me?" Tamblin asked and looked up again to see how near the lift was. He snapped his head back to the hallway as a second scream sounded followed seconds later by a third.

"I had a lot of time to think," Digdon said with no sign that he heard the screams or cared what they meant. "What I took had value once, and now again."

"What do you mean?" Tamblin said. He heard a swishing sound from the corridor, or had he imagined it? How far was it from the distraction to the central shaft. He tried to calculate the distance and how fast the dementors might move when suspicious. He refused to think about the screams or what they meant.

"Dumbledore fed me clues to get me on the trail. But things didn't turn out quite right."

"You killed two Aurors trying to break into the Wizengamot," Tamblin said.

"I was rather anxious to discuss a few matters with the chief warlock. I ended up here, with the memories. But then You-Know-Who disappeared. Our ride's here," he said as the lift platform dropped suddenly past them to rest at floor level.

Tamblin gestured for Digdon to go first and then followed.

"Ascendio," he said and the platform began rising again.


	56. Chapter 56

"You-Know-Who disappeared," Digdon continued as Tamblin peered down the shaft around the edge of the platform. "I suppose Dumbledore became preoccupied with other matters. People don't respect history the way they should. And history revisits itself on those who disrespect it. I told Dumbledore that once. He should have listened."

Tamblin watched Digdon's face as he spoke. It was animated by an almost religious fervor. Glancing down the shaft again he thought he could make out dark shapes moving against the blackness.

"The memories, Digdon."

"Yes. The past of Voldemort has revisited. The past where Dumbledore needed the memories has come again. My past- you're my past returning."

Tamblin could definitely see shapes moving in the shaft below them. They were coming on, getting closer.

"The memories, Digdon, now," Tamblin hissed. He could try to take the memories from the man but that was delicate and difficult. Not the thing to try on a slow moving elevator chased by dementors. He needed Digdon's help.

Digdon looked up, counting levels. "You can't protect history without an appreciation of time. Very well." He held out his hand to Tamblin. "I'll need the wand."

Tamblin's hand tightened on his bloodwand. "I know memory magic. Just concentrate on the memories for me to take."

Digdon smiled. "Oh. Of course." He stepped up closer to Tamblin. He bent his great gaunt frame forward until his forehead touched the end of the bloodwand. As Digdon did so his eyes stared at Tamblin. Tamblin struggled with the impulse to blast the dangerous man looming over him away.

Tamblin concentrated. A silver strand of memory came away from Digdon, stuck to the end of Tamblin's wand. Tamblin brought it to his own temple. He saw flashes of a dingy house and snakes but he had no time to review the memory. There was a sound on the underside of the lift, a sound very much like scratching. The lift was passing the eighth floor. Tamblin reached into a pocket and withdrew a handful of objects. They had a variety of shapes, stars, cubes, balls… and each had a fuse.

Digdon watched impassively as Tamblin passed his wand over the lot and each fuse sputtered and sparked. Tamblin threw the hissing items in a wide arc off the lift as they were passing the eighth. To one side Tamblin saw sickly grey fingers stretch up around the edge of the lift. Just as they curled into a grip on the edge a series of cracks, booms, and whizzing noises exploded below. The hand at the edge of the lift froze and then slowly let go and slipped back down.

Out of the corner of his eye Tamblin saw Digdon move. He jerked his wand around to point at the man. Digdon merely bent his frame to touch the wand to his head again.

"Ready for the next one," Digdon asked.

Tamblin's hand was shaking as he withdrew the next memory from Digdon.

"Careful with it, boy," Digdon said as Tamblin absorbed the memory. He got flashes again of the dingy house, somehow more ramshackled and dilapidated. "That's history itself. It lives in you now. You die and history dies with you."

"I have other reasons to live, thank you," Tamblin said curtly.

A Dementor burst through the space between the lift and the shaft wall. The thing's body had compressed down to a fist-wide cylinder. It had the appearance of a floating black snake, crowned with a dementor's usual corpse visage head. Then the body expanded, like a cobra's hood spreading wide.

The thing sniffed at the air. Tamblin tapped his wand against his temple. He got a flash of a spring afternoon, long tanned legs and arms and dark hair shot through with strands of gold and copper. Then it was gone as he pulled the memory from his mind. With a flick he hurled it past the Dementor. The thing's head jerked to follow the scent of happiness. An instant later the thing bolted down the fourth floor corridor to follow.

"Digdon, how many more? I'm running out of gambits."

"Just one," Digdon said. "But there's a problem." He was looking up.

Tamblin looked up. Above them, at the top floor, the entire shaft was filled with Dementors wheeling about. The lift pulled Tamblin steadily towards them.


	57. Chapter 57

Tamblin only had one trick left, and he wasn't even sure what it did. Flitwick's glass egg was in his hand. He hesitated. Should he break it now, he wondered. Would it be enough to distract them all? Should he wait until he was closer in case the distraction was short lived?

Tamblin watched the swirling mass of the Dementors creep closer. Digdon bent his frame as the tattered black cloaks swept just overhead. Then they were engulfed by the things. Tamblin slammed the egg against the floor as the lift stopped.

The egg shattered into a hundred pieces as Tamblin felt a dozen cold arms clutch at him. He couldn't see anything through the mass of Dementors and then he heard an unexpected sound.

 _Caw_

The call was answered seconds later by a chorus of replies and then the blackness was broken. Slivery white ravens were _everywhere_ and the shards of the egg were giving birth to more every second. Their calls were deafening and they buffeted and clawed at the Dementors as they swarmed in the small space. Their attacks didn't seem to be seriously harming the Dementors but there was no question that the things were distracted. Tamblin pushed through the mass in the direction he hoped led to the exit. The platform was crammed with the mass of the Dementors and the frenzy of the birds. Tamblin had to squeeze and shove his way through them only to find he'd guessed wrong. He reached the edge of the platform and faced a blank wall of basalt. Working around the edge he finally found the exit hallway. Ahead of him he could see Digdon running.

Tamblin sped after him. He ran past the employee only doors. He had gained on Digdon so that the man was just ahead. His view blocked, Tamblin failed to see the archway with the rippling energy until Digdon slid through it. It was too late to stop. As his wand passed through, the faint yellow ripples turned an angry red and Tamblin screamed in pain. He fell face first through the archway and slid several meters. His wand, searingly hot, flew from his hand.

As Tamblin pulled himself painfully up he saw Digdon framed against the angry sky visible through the exit. He was bending to retrieve Tamblin's wand, his face animated by a hellish glow.

Tamblin leapt forward as Digdon raised the bloodwand. They struggled each pulling the wand towards them and Digdon stumbled back a step closer to the exit, and a drop of three hundred feet into the North Sea. Tamblin pulled as hard as he could but his wand moved inexorably away from him and towards the former prisoner. With a cruel smile Digdon forced the shaking wand up towards his own head. He touched it to his temple and a silver glow formed there. Shaking with strain the man pulled his head away from the wand leaving a memory attached. He pressed the wand towards Tamblin whose own muscles started to slack. Visions of a golden cup and locket passed through his head as the memory slithered into his thoughts.

The sound of the ravens echoing down the passageway was distinctly fading.

Digdon let go of the bloodwand. "Freedom," he hissed. Throwing his arms wide the man fell stiffly through the opening. Tamblin lurched to the edge. Digdon plunged into the angry sea and disappeared.

There was a sudden rush of air and hundreds of silvery ravens flew past Tamblin and out into the night air where they promptly evaporated leaving only fading sparkles in their wake. From the tunnel came the sound of scraping as the dementors rushed in mass towards the entrance where Tamblin stood.

Tamblin took one deep breath to clear his mind, tried to let the inner stillness of the power spread through him, and then he jumped.


	58. Chapter 58

The grey swallowed him before the North Sea could. The dementors lost their prey but having completed his mission, and without the nagging echoed memories of Dumbledore, Tamblin lost himself. He ran through the grey with no sense of his identity.

He wasn't alone. He found others like himself, made feral and free, and at one with the grey world. He found his mother and they screamed and clawed at each other savagely.

And there were others still, ones who moved with purpose through the grey. They followed him and watched. He sensed them all around him. Their presence frustrated him and he tried to run, to evade. Wherever he turned they were there and they circled him drawing closer and closer. They clutched at him and the sense of being trapped drove him mad. He lashed out and screamed and bit and clawed. The violence of his struggles did nothing. They would not turn him loose and he had no power to harm them. They held him fast, a fate he would rather have died than felt. They took something white from Tamblin's pocket and broke it.


	59. Chapter 59

The door to the Great Hall of Hogwarts swung easily open despite the weakness of the arm upon it. The hall was silent and dark, the students long since asleep. Tamblin staggered into the castle, noticeably limping with his robes torn and bloodied. His eyes were bloodshot and heavily ringed with fatigue. He held his left arm tightly against his side. Bright red scratches crisscrossed his pale face. He looked at the first flight of the grand staircase and loudly sighed.


	60. Chapter 60

Filch found him half way between the second and third floor. Tamblin was too rigidly controlling his talent to slip past the man. Filch paid no attention to Tamblin's state in his eagerness to punish a student. Tamblin was grateful to have the man grab him and drag him towards the headmaster's office. Tamblin wondered if the headmaster ever slept. They found him, as always, sitting behind his desk.

"Found this one out on the stairs just now, headmaster," Filch said.

Dumbledore was already out of his seat and gently easing Tamblin from Filch's grip and into one of the chairs.

"Yes, thank you, Argus. Please tell Madam Pomfrey she'll have a patient momentarily."

"But headmaster… the chains. The cages. The paddles and pokers and scalding irons." Filch's face trembled with the thought of it.

"Argus, I must insist you notify Madam Pomfrey this instant," Dumbledore said without raising his voice.

Filch looked on the verge of a tantrum when he suddeny relaxed. A sly look crossed his face and he nodded curtly and left. Dumbledore looked Tamblin over carefully.

"The boon is repaid," Tamblin croaked.

"You look much the worse for wear, Mr. Demosthene, but I see nothing that appears life threatening. I suspect Madam Pomfrey can fix you up in time for your classes."

"Wait… classes? What day is it? How long was I gone?"

"I'm afraid we are into the third week of classes, Tamblin. Tomorrow will be the first day of February, if calendars can be trusted."

"That's… that's just longer than I expected."

"Well, look at the bright side," Dumbledore said and smiled, "it will also be a Saturday. You said the boon was repaid, can I take that to mean you were successful?"

Tamblin nodded. "Digdon has died, but he gave me the memories first."

Dumbledore removed a number of empty stoppered bottles from his desk. "I hate to rush you under the circumstances but I believe we may soon be interrupted."

Tamblin was happy to be rid of the memories. He placed each in a bottle, carefully sealing them.

"Four deaths, Dumbledore. Are these worth it?"

"Six actually, Tamblin. I can only hope they save many more than that." Dumbledore placed the bottles within his desk just before his door slammed open with a crash.

" _A-hem._ Albus didn't I mention that the ministry was very concerned about Mr. Demosthene?"

Tamblin turned to look at the wide-faced Umbridge who stood, clad in a frilly pink sleeping gown and looking quite out of breath, in the headmaster's doorway.

"I recall you saying it distinctly, Delores. Ministry positions I concur with have become rare and notable of late."

Umbridge smiled sweetly.

"Then surely you were planning to have me on hand, in my official position as both assistant to the Minister and as Hogwarts High Inquisitor, when you interrogated Mr. Demosthene about his absence."

"I rather thought an interrogation could wait, Delores. It might not even be needed at all. Mr. Demosthene's family matters that called him back to Romania may have taken longer than expected to resolve, but that's hardly a crime."

Umbridge tut-tut'd him. "I'd remind _you_ , Albus, that extended unexcused absences are grounds for expulsion at the ministry's discretion." Umbridge turned a smirking look on Tamblin which quickly dissolved into her usual saccharine smile. "Of course the Ministry has only our student's best interests at heart. Maybe if I knew more about what called you away I… we could see fit to grant an excuse after the fact, as it were." Her eyes looked very greedy.

Tamblin nodded. "All right, Professor Umbridge." He stood slowly and painfully.

Umbridge's mouth got wider still.

"Yes? You'll tell me where you've been?"

Tamblin feigned confusion. "Uh… well, no Professor."

Umbridge's gleeful smile froze and shattered. "What? You said 'all right.' All right, what?"

"All right, I'll go and pack my things. Hogwarts has been a fine institution and I'm sorry to have to leave it." Tamblin made to move to the door but Professor Umbridge didn't move aside to let him pass.

"Well… well… what's this? You're leaving?" she trilled.

"Well, no ma'am. Technically you're throwing me out."

Umbridge shot a shocked look at first Tamblin and then Dumbledore.

"But… I- I thought you had to have…that is to say- let's not be hasty here," She said adopting a tone of superiority. "It's late and everyone is… is very tired. Perhaps we should talk about this more later, and not make any rash decisions now."

Dumbledore interjected, "An excellent suggestion, Delores. Very keenly observed. Now if you'll excuse me, I'll see Tamblin down to the hospital wing."

Umbridge's eyes were filled with hard suspicion aimed at the both of them.


	61. Chapter 61

Tamblin woke up in an infirmary bed. He turned his head to the right and found Cascata drooling on his pillow, snoring slightly. She was seated in a chair next to his bed but leaned forward so that her head rested on his pillow. One of her hands was laid possessively on his arm. Tamblin touched his forehead to hers. He did it gently but she started awake. Sitting up quickly she wiped her mouth with her free hand.

"You're back," she said. She yawned deeply and just stared at him.

Her eyes seemed much larger than he remembered and he basked in them. The attention was doing much more for him than Pomfrey's tonics. There was a keen longing in those eyes. Tamblin pulled her into a hug. She hesitated only a second, clearly worried about hurting him, before surrendering to it. With her head on his shoulder she began crying softly.

"I'm so sorry, Tamblin."

"Why?"

She tried to answer but choked on a sob the first time. "I did what you asked. I tried not to think about you. But at some point I… oh. Tamblin after the weeks went by I- I really did start to forget. God, you must hate me."

She tried to pull away from him but he wouldn't let her.

"That's not your fault. It is just how the power works."

She shook her head. "I'm not fit to be your anchor."

"Shush. You did great. I was able to make it back because you started thinking of me."

Cascata sort of cringed. "Hannah had to remind me. She didn't forget. And she told me where you'd gone. It was bad. We- we got in a bit of a fight about it."

Now Tamblin did let go of Cascata. He pulled back to look with concern at her anguished face.

"You and Hannah? Fighting?"

Cascata looked deeply ashamed. "I couldn't believe what a terribly stupid, dangerous, thing you'd done. And I knew why you'd told me it was safe but I was still mad. And I was mad that you told her the truth. And…"

"You were embarrassed that you'd forgotten and she hadn't," Tamblin finished.

Cascata nodded, crying openly again.

"I said some mean things, really just awful things, and she got hurt and said some things and soon Susan was having to keep us away from each other. We've barely spoke to each other for days. She's been spending most of her time with Justin. Susan's mad that we won't apologize to each other."

"Cascata, Hannah only remembered because of a trick I set up. It was a safety so that she could remind you. So you could help me."

Cascata sort of moaned. "Are you trying to make me more miserable?"

"You didn't forget through any fault on your part. Hannah didn't remember through any special strength on hers."

She nodded. "I just lashed out at one of my best friends for no reason. Hannah's been under a lot of strain with the prefect things, and the class load, and- and just _everything_."

Tamblin shushed her again. "We'll work everything out. Don't worry." He tried to think of a topic to distract her. "How has Quidditch been?"

Cascata snorted. "Quidditch has been fine. Everything else going wrong has made playing Beater very therapeutic."


	62. Chapter 62

Cascata stayed with him until that afternoon, only leaving to fetch him some lunch from the Great Hall. At nearly two, she suddenly got up and muttered about needing to check something. She kissed him once and then left quickly.

Tamblin was still staring suspiciously at the door she had left through when Susan peeked her head in for a second. Her head disappeared again and a moment later she came in through the door followed by Hannah.

Susan sat in the chair Cascata had been using. Hannah stood at the end of the bed looking uncomfortable and glancing frequently at the door.

"Are you okay, Tamblin," Susan asked. Hannah's eyes snapped on to his as he answered.

"A little beat up. Nothing serious."

Susan smiled. Then she hissed conspiratorially, "Is it true? You went to…" she looked around quickly, "Azkaban?"

Tamblin nodded. "Not one of my better vacation choices."

Hannah looked like she was dying to say something. There was a heavy tension in the air as there had never been before.

Susan looked uncomfortable and tried to say something light, "I hope you'll feel up for some study sessions. We've all missed your help on Saturdays. Maybe we can pick up our History of Magic lessons, too." She looked between them. "Oh for goodness sake, say something, Hannah."

Hannah just shook her head. Susan looked back at Tamblin and Hannah silently mouthed the words "I'm sorry." Then she turned and ran out of the infirmary. Susan watched her leave and then sort of slumped in her chair.

"There've been some problems," she said in a defeated tone of voice.

"I picked up on the subtle clues," he said.

"I don't know what to do, Tamblin. I've never known Hannah to fight with anyone. And the only person Cascata ever seemed to get this upset with before was… well… you."

"Thanks," Tamblin said.

"Well, it's true," Susan said defensively.

Susan stared at him for a moment and sighed deeply. "It's been a pain on top of everything else."

"What else, Susan?"

Susan looked surprised. "I assumed you knew. I mean, you were there…"

Tamblin just shook his head.

"We got the news a couple weeks ago, first day of class actually, that a bunch of Death Eaters broke out of Azkaban. People, teachers even, have been really uptight about it. People keep asking me..." She trailed off.

"Asking you what?"

She looked uncomfortable. One of the Death Eaters…well he was in Azkaban for killing my Uncle and Aunt. The whole family actually. It was pretty horrible but I was so young I… anyway people kept asking me what it was like knowing he was out there, maybe wanting to finish the job."

"Catarhein," Tamblin whispered.

Susan was surprised. "Yeah, he's…how'd you know that?"

"I did some reading on the Death Eaters this summer."

"Oh. Well, not like it's a secret with the Daily Prophet telling everyone." Susan was quiet for a bit. "What'll I do, Tamblin, I mean about Hannah and Cascata? They're my best friends…"

"Don't worry, Susan. This isn't your problem." Tamblin lay down, turning away from her. "It's mine."


	63. Chapter 63

Cascata came back a little while after Susan left. She too took a quick peek through the infirmary door before coming in. She spent the rest of the weekend by his side. By Sunday night he was feeling much better. He wasn't having to force control over the power, it was gradually becoming natural again. The cuts and bruises were gone. He was still tired but that was manageable.

Sunday night Professor Flitwick appeared in the infirmary doorway.

Cascata turned to Tamblin, "I have to get off to bed anyway. I'll see you in class tomorrow?"

Tamblin nodded. She started to lean in to kiss him and then stopped and gave a guilty look at Flitwick, who was whistling idly and inspecting the floor. Cascata blushed but gave Tamblin a quick peck before scooting out through the door.

"Good bedside manner," Flitwick said, "key to a quick recovery."

Tamblin laughed.

"You're looking well, Tamblin. At least comparatively. I'm glad you have made it back. I'm afraid there are a number of Hufflepuffs in your year who are having issues with Charms. I expect you'll sort it all out."

"I'll do my best, Professor."

"Good. Good. Tamblin, the item I lent you before you left…"

"I'm sorry, Professor, I won't be able to return it to you."

Flitwick looked disappointed for a moment. "Ah well. Put to good use and all that."

"That it was. Unquestionably saved my life."

Flitwick had an expectant look. "Do you think you could describe the effect, Tamblin?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I'm not following. The effect? You mean what it did?"

"Yes, just that."

"But, sir, didn't you know what it would do?"

"Not precisely. The lady was undeniably brilliant, but sadly infamous for keeping shoddy lab journals."

"What lady, Professor?"

"Ravenclaw. Rowena Ravenclaw, of course."

Tamblin stared.

"You mean the egg, it was something of _hers_?"

"Well, I can't be completely sure of that. She made a few eggs and supposedly taught an apprentice who may have made three or four more. Unfortunately the secret of their manufacture was lost with their deaths. I know of two more that survive to this day. One of those is also in my possession. The other-"

Tamblin interrupted, "professor, I'm so sorry. I had no idea it was so valuable."

"Well… so long as it did the trick." The little man shrugged. "If you could describe the effects it would go some ways to helping recompense the loss."

"Certainly, but how did you know it would help me if you didn't know what it would do?"

"Lady Ravenclaw detested Dementors and Lethifolds. Her notes on the eggs, shoddy though they are, suggest she intended them to… well, to really annoy the creatures. She was a tad spiteful at times."

"Sir, I wanted to ask you a few questions." Tamblin hesitated.

Flitwick eyed him for a second and then tilted his head. "I suppose that these are passing fancies meant to satisfy intellectual curiosities? That I should not take them to be serious questions worth mentioning if, say, someone were to ask?"

"Yes. Just that, Professor. Do you know of a man named Barnaby Digdon?"

Flitwick tapped a finger against his chin absent mindedly. "Digdon. I do seem to recall something. Ah, yes, an archeomnemologist sent to Azkaban some years ago."

"A what?"

"Archeomnemologist. They're a somewhat disreputable bunch I'm afraid. Some consider them no more than a cult, but that's probably unfair. Misguided researchers would be a more apt description."

"Researchers of what?"

Flitwick sighed. "You recall, Tamblin, that when you first came to me to learn memory magic I said the field had developed a bad reputation over the years? A lot of people have done a lot of bad things to create that reputation, including the Archeomnemologists."

"How so, professor?"

"Archeomnemologists believe that history can only be known and understood by preserving the memories of the people who actually witnessed it. They believe that the preservation of these memories is of paramount importance. And I'm afraid they have often been willing to use unscrupulous means to acquire said memories."

"I haven't read about any of this in my class work." There was just a hint of accusation in Tamblin's tone.

"True, for two reasons. In the first the Archeomnemologists comprise a small and not very noteworthy group, except perhaps as an object lesson of the dangers of obsession. In the second place I admit that with a dangerous topic like this, I do carefully craft the curriculum to avoid contaminating a student's views. You'll just have to forgive me that as your teacher."

Tamblin nodded.

"So they steal memories? You said 'unscrupulous means.' That's what you meant, isn't it? They steal memories and that's why they developed a bad reputation."

"That's part of it, Tamblin. They'd steal, con, trick, cajole, and generally do anything they had to to get the memories they valued. In addition to that, though, they're also prone to Siamphorth Syndrome, for obvious reasons."

"I know that name, Siamphorth. Where do I know that from," Tamblin said.

Flitwick smiled and looked expectantly at him.

"It was one of the scrolls you gave me for supplemental reading. I was researching how to make the Memenograph. That name was in a foot note in the section on the pensieve. It was talking about… It was about wizards who made contributions to the magic of extracting memories."

Flitwick nodded. "Indeed. Five points to Ravenclaw," he said with a small smirk. "Old Siamphorth was the first to draw memories from another and add them to his own thoughts. The invention of the pensieve was motivated, in part, by his sad fate."

"What happened to him?"

"It is rather dangerous to keep other people's memories in your head, Tamblin. It's like having a small part of them in there. You remember thinking as they did, feeling what they did. This can take on a life of its own in time. You could say that that piece of them grows inside you, fighting with the real you for control."

Tamblin felt a chill. He'd carried other's memories back from Azkaban.

"Is it dangerous to carry a few memories?"

"It can be a little disorienting, but Siamphorth's? No. Siamphorth's particularly takes hold when an individual carries memories from a great many others. They can't keep track of who they are anymore."

"Why are the Archemnemologists prone to it?"

"They're obsessed with preserving the memories of history. As you well know you can bottle a memory for a time but they do degrade. No one yet has managed to keep a memory fresh in a bottle more than a decade. So the Archeomnemologists keep their stolen memories in their own heads and try to pass them on to their fellows before they die. Consequently nearly all of them are treated for Siamphorth's sooner or later. Digdon, in fact, had just been released from St. Mungo's when he tried to break into the Ministry of Magic. A few people died, as I recall, and there was a big stink as to whether Siamphorth's should be grounds for immediate and permanent committal."

"Do you know why he was trying to break into the Wizengamot," Tamblin asked.

Flitwick shrugged. "Probably acting on the impulse of one of the memories living in his head. Siamphorth sufferers are usually irrational."

"Professor, suppose you wanted to steal certain memories, wanted it very very badly, wouldn't it make sense to convince an Archeomenmologist to do it?"

Flitwick seemed perturbed. "Well, if you wanted it badly enough, and the idea of taking memories didn't dissuade you, and you couldn't get them yourself then, yes, I suppose convincing an Archemnemologist to get them makes a certain sense. They have the skills and the commitment to see through the task. Of course getting them to release the memories once they have them might be a chore."

"Not if they're dying," Tamblin said quietly. "They don't want the memories to die with them."

The diminutive professor had a very concerned look on his face.

"Excuse me, professor, forget I said anything. As you said- a passing fancy."

Flitwick nodded slowly. "Just so. You have quite a deal of work to catch up on I imagine. I took the liberty of just filling in the scores I think you would have gotten on the Charms work you missed."

"Thank you, professor."

"One other thing," Flitwick said and his face became uncharacteristically gloomy. "The Ministry has passed another decree. It's… it's just terrible. It forbids teachers from passing on to students any information that isn't part of the class they teach. Imagine it! The ministry _forbidding_ teachers to teach. It's horrifying. It's terrible. It- I- I'm sorry. The point is if Umbridge" Tamblin noted how Flitwick had refused to use any of the woman's titles "should ask, you must tell her we only discussed the charms work you missed."

"I understand, professor."

"Goodnight, and Tamblin? Welcome back."


	64. Chapter 64

Professor McGonagall asked Tamblin to stay after Transfiguration class. She too had essentially excused the homework Tamblin had missed, although she managed to impart that information in as terse and brittle a manner possible. Tamblin got the impression she was grateful not to have his death on her conscience.

Unfortunately, even with Charms and Transfigurations letting him slide that still left a huge mountain of homework. In the three weeks he'd missed there were half a dozen essays from History of Magic alone.

He managed to focus all of his energies on getting caught up. When he noticed that Hannah didn't attend the first Saturday study session after he got back, he pushed it from his mind. In classes she had started sitting with Justin Finch-Fletchley exclusively. Tamblin felt deeply uneasy in classes with the Hufflepuffs. He couldn't relax and behave normally with Cascata because he was always second guessing how things would look from Hannah's seat. The normal flirting and teasing with Cascata had been replaced by false propriety.

It reminded Tamblin of nothing so much as the lessons Vlora had drilled into him about formal dining etiquette. Tamblin had hated the few formal dinners he'd attended, everyone looking at everyone else, watching for some small flaw, no one enjoying anything, lest they make some error. Now every day in class with his girlfriend felt that way. He carefully set aside the reminder of Vlora.

To make up for it, they were excessively informal on weekends, in private. But after a marathon make-out session he felt pangs of guilt, although he couldn't exactly say why. Cascata too seemed more inhibited, less free spirited.

The Weasley twins managed to interrupt Tamblin and Cascata in the Alcove at a less than dignified time.

"Bravo," Fred said and clapped.

"Encore," Said George, as Tamblin and Cascata disentangled.

"We needed to have a private word with you, mate," said Fred.

"Unless this is a bad time," grinned George.

Tamblin sighed. "No, this is fine. I think the mood is-"

"-broken," Cascata said flatly. She got up and walked past the twins. Before touching the Erewhon book she looked back at Tamblin. "I'll see _you_ later."

As she disappeared Fred whistled. "Hufflepuffs, huh? I never would have guessed."

"I don't think she likes us too much, Fred," Said George.

"She just doesn't know you," Tamblin said. "Give her a chance to really hate you."

Fred looked at his brother. "Lusty Hufflepuffs and funny Ravenclaws. It's the end of the world."

"That it is, Fred."

Tamblin groaned, "Get to the point."

"First of all, as one of our earliest clients we wanted to get some customer feedback," Fred said.

"Were you satisfied with your purchase of Weasley patented incendiaries?" George asked. "Would you recommend them to friends or relatives who had need to cause explosions or, at the least, anarchist tendencies?"

"Actually now that you mention it, yes, they came in very handy."

The twins smiled. "We'd considered the possibility that your prolonged absence might have involved St Mungo's and burn salve. Those specific terms appear a few times in the trial notes."

Tamblin shook his head.

"Good. Then the other matter. As you may know, the Weasley brand comes with the strictest guarantees of anonymity and privacy. We'll show you a copy of this policy as soon as we can be bothered to write one. Suffice it to say that we regard our client's purchase as inviolate secrets that can only be revealed if we really _really_ feel like it."

George picked up. "We've been making some sales in preparation for our future business. It happens that someone bought something, somethings really, that might concern you. And since you're a-"

"Wealthy" Fred interjected.

"-client in good standing we thought we'd bring it to your attention."

Tamblin sensed something wrong. Usually the twins didn't drag things out like this.

"Whatever it is, just say it," Tamblin said.

The twins looked at each other. Fred spoke, his voice very flat and mirthless. "Three years ago, when we worked together selling grey…"

"Yeah," Tamblin prompted.

"Well…you asked us not to sell any to Hannah Abbot. We didn't ask why because we felt kind of… well we just didn't want to do it anymore anyway."

"What's going on," Tamblin asked.

"She's started buying potions from us. Quite a lot actually. We could certainly use the feedback and cash, but…"

George cut in, equally restrained, "If you asked us not to sell to her we wouldn't."

Tamblin rubbed a hand over his face. "What kind of potions has she been buying?"

The twins exchanged another glance. "Love philters. That's the only merchandise she's shown any interest. Actually she was somewhat curious about the skiving snackboxes but she's only bought the philters."

"When'd this start," Tamblin asked.

"Couple days after you got back."

Tamblin's thoughts flicked through the possibilities. If it was only recently then it wasn't possible that she'd fed him love potions to cause the feelings he had for her, unless she'd previously had another supply. She could possibly mean to feed him a love potion now to augment the real feelings. Or feed one to Cascata to pique her interest in someone else.

He shook his head. That wasn't right. Hannah had tried to say she was sorry when she'd seen him in the infirmary but that was before she had bought the potions. She was sorted into Hufflepuff, loyal to a fault.

 _Finch-Fletchley._

Tamblin groaned. She was taking the potions herself. Trying to create an attraction to Justin to distract herself and make things easier for everyone.

Tamblin looked up at the twins. "This love potion is safe? Do the words " 's" or "burn salve" appear anywhere in the trial notes?"

Fred shook his head.

George said, "It's just a standard love potion."

Tamblin nodded. "All right. Let me know if anything changes but for now that should be fine."

Fred smiled, "So out of curiosity, who's she trying to kip off with?"

"She wants out of love, not in."


	65. Chapter 65

Tamblin couldn't find the right time to talk with Hannah. She clearly was trying to avoid him. Every time he saw her she was with Justin and the homework was suffocating. Then too he had to catch up on reports from the people he had working on the Death Eater situation. That situation had become much more complicated with the break out. He'd made good headway in attacking the finances of those Death Eaters who had remained free, but this was possible because they had remained public. The new escapees were underground. He had no way to assess their capabilities or weaknesses. The fog of war had come down on his campaign. A similar sense of dangerous unknown lived in the school. The escape of so many Death Eaters from Azkaban had shaken people's faith in the Ministry. More and more were questioning the Ministry's blanket assurances that everything was under control.

The end of February brought the Hufflepuff vs. Griffindor Quidditch match. Tamblin felt compelled to watch since Cascata was playing on the team, although he still had no sense of what any of it meant, or why so many students cared so much. The Hufflepuffs won in what Tamblin gathered was a surprise upset, although maybe not much of a surprise as apparently most of the Gryffindor team had had to be replaced this year according to several Gryffindors complaints that Tamblin overheard.

In the wake of the Hufflepuff victory was a bigger upset. Harry Potter had been interviewed by some terrible little rag of a newspaper called the Quibbler. In the interview he'd described for the world how Cedric Diggory had died and Voldemort had returned. The Ministry had immediately banned the Quibbler at Hogwarts to no avail. They were everywhere and simply everyone read the article. Everyone talked about the article incessantly.

Tamblin was reading a copy in the library when he felt a slight chill. Looking up he saw Nott peeking out at him from a nearby book rack. Tamblin folded his Quibbler, which was charmed so that when he let go of it the paper changed to resemble a treatise on civil rights cases and the Wizengamot.

Nott's voice was hushed, "Time is short; I'm supposed to meet Malfoy."

Tamblin's eyes narrowed at the mention of the boy who had arranged his ambush.

"Things are moving too quickly. Malfoy is anxious to move to the endgame, but his blatant ambition is a weakness. He can be distracted from his goal by the promise of power."

"Why are you telling me this, Theodore?"

Nott hesitated. "Maybe I want one person who knows the why of my actions."

"An alibi," Tamblin said bitterly.

Nott seemed to realize for the first time how wide the gulf between them had grown. He nodded and his voice sounded resigned even hurt, "Yes. An alibi, should I ever be called to account." Nott started backing away from Tamblin, his hushed voice becoming more spectral. "I'm glad you understand me so well."


	66. Chapter 66

Weeks passed uneventfully except for the constant grind of class work. Then one evening on his way down the grand staircase towards dinner Tamblin was stopped by a commotion in the great hall. A quite smug-looking Professor Umbridge was confronting an utterly crazed Professor Trelawney. Trelawney was in the process of being sacked, and it had turned into quite the spectacle. She stood, clearly intoxicated and her clothes and hair in disarray, next to two trunks that looked much the worse for wear. A crowd had gathered so that Umbridge and Trelawney were ringed by gaping students and frowning teachers. Only Umbridge seemed to be enjoying herself.

Tamblin felt a sudden heat crawl up his back and he looked around. Down on the main floor Cascata was staring at him fiercely. She was silently pleading, maybe demanding, that he do something to spare her aunt this humiliation. Tamblin could see nothing that he might do to make the situation better though.

Professor McGonagall took pity on the poor Trelawney and broke from the observers in order to comfort her. Umbridge looked ready to interfere when the main gates to the castle opened and Dumbledore entered. Tamblin couldn't hear what was said but McGonagall, Sprout, and Flitwick ushered Trelawney up the staircase. As they passed Tamblin didn't look at Trelawney. He couldn't imagine the horror of such a public humiliation. He turned his eyes away as Sprout and McGonagall hustled her past. He only looked back up when Flitwick came by, levitating the two trunks ahead of him. Tamblin looked at the diminutive teacher and saw, for the first time, anger in his face.

Returning to the railing to look down again on the scene below, Tamblin found himself flanked by Nott on one side and the Weasley twins on the other. Umbridge was having a fit, apparently over a centaur that stood impassively watching from the castle gateway.

"That woman is vulgar," Tamblin said.

"I'm forced to agree," Nott replied.

Fred said, "We had some more colorful descriptions in mind."

"We should formally complain to the Ministry about her," Tamblin said.

"We're more the do-it-yourself kind," said George.

There was a pause and then Nott said quietly, "A new Harlequin Accord?"

Fred said, "To make Umbridge as miserable as possible?"

"For the purpose of driving her out of Hogwarts," Tamblin said.

"After making her as miserable as possible," George added.

Nott nodded. "Agreed."

Tamblin could still see Cascata in the crowd below. Many of the students were returning to the Great Hall to continue their interrupted dinners, but Cascata stood in a small knot with Susan and Ernie. She looked up at Tamblin often.


	67. Chapter 67

What Tamblin had missed, from his vantage up the staircase, was that the centaur Firenze was replacing Trelawney as Divination teacher. The spectacle of Trelawney's sacking and near exile, saved at the last moment by Dumbledore, made for great gossip. Firenze joining the school made an even bigger impact. Tamblin overheard Padme and Lisa describing the centaur as 'dreamy.' This was apparently a common sentiment among the female students. This, coupled with his inhuman nature and dramatic entrance, provoked a good deal of student interest. Everyone knew that there were centaurs living in the Forbidden Forest, but they were widely believed to be dangerous and unfriendly. Tamblin had spent a great deal of time in the Forest and knew for a fact that the centaurs were unpredictable and often ruthless.

He was more interested in exacting some measure of revenge upon Umbridge than discussing the new professor. When he looked at her he saw less and less the loathsome little woman. In that place he saw a culmination of all his frustrations. She embodied his strife with the Ministry, his suspicions about Dumbledore and Nott, his troubles with Hannah, even the growing enmity with Malfoy and the other children of the Death Eaters.

Fred and George threw themselves into their work. He never saw them but that they were conspiring. Tamblin had no idea what Nott was up to. On the staircase Nott had given Tamblin a look that practically had dared him to make an accusation in front of the twins. Regardless of what Nott might be up to, Tamblin had to determine how he might contribute to the offensive. Tamblin had one idea that might be of use.


	68. Chapter 68

Things started going wrong around the castle, small annoyances that seemed to revolve around Umbridge. The door to her office grew half an inch all around, enough to jam it shut. The plumbing seemed to suffer the oddest misfortunes when she was either on the toilet or in the bath. Her meals invariably contained hairs or fingernails or both. Tamblin had no part in these misfortunes. He assumed they were entirely the work of the twins as they didn't seem Nott's style, even assuming Nott was participating. Tamblin's idea was a bit more involved.

Phausto was reluctant at first when Tamblin explained what he had in mind. A painfully detailed description of the aesthetics of Umbridge's office was enough to convince him. The rest of what he needed arrived in the mail, it was sufficiently innocuous that Tamblin wasn't worried about Filch or Umbridge getting suspicious when they checked the student post.

It took Phausto a while. Tamblin grew impatient with Phausto's perfectionism.

"It doesn't need to be great art, Phausto. It just has to work."

"The better it's painted the more lifelike it'll be," Phausto said testily. "You want it to behave like the real thing, right?"

"Yes," Tamblin admitted.

"Then stop rushing me. Art is done when it's _done_. Now shove off. I'll have one of the portraits find you when you can pick it up. Get."

Tamblin protested but Phausto refused to be rushed in the pursuit of his art.


	69. Chapter 69

Tamblin avoided the Alcove until he noticed a portrait of an elderly witch winking at him and nodding with her head. Phausto had finally finished the task to his personal standards.

Tamblin handled the plate gingerly. On the front side it showed a black kitten wearing a mauve collar with a large bell attached, just as he'd described to Phausto. There was a vaguely menacingly looking cave painted on the back side. Tamblin looked up at Phausto.

"It's in there?"

"Of course."

"You're sure?"

Phausto glared at him. "You wanted something nocturnal. Well that means it sleeps during the day, which I must point out is what it is now! Now shove off."

"Alright, alright," Tamblin said. "Thank you, Phausto."

Phausto grumbled something that Tamblin couldn't make out in return.


	70. Chapter 70

Slipping into Umbridge's office was trivial after breaking into Azkaban. He simply waited, withdrawn, for her to leave her office one day and stepped through the doorway before it closed. Once inside he scanned the rows of playful kittens on plates until he found the one that matched. He held up the two plates, his and hers, and compared them. Not an exact match, since he'd had to describe the kitten from memory and Phausto had to paint never having seen the original. Still it was close enough that he thought it would pass casual inspection. With so many of the damn things surely she didn't have every kitten's exact features memorized.

He placed the plate Phausto painted in the place of the original, the cave against the wall and the kitten innocently playing on the front. The original plate he tucked into his bag until he could dispose of it.

Then he waited for the door to open again so he could slip out.


	71. Chapter 71

The next morning at breakfast he caught the eye of the twins and nodded them over to join him at a place against the side wall near to the teacher's table. As casually as two identical large redheaded boys can, they sauntered over to join him.

"What's up, Romeo?" Fred whispered.

Tamblin frowned at their choice of nicknames but ignored it for the time.

"I suspect we'll see something interesting-"

He broke off because at that moment Umbridge, clad in a pink nightgown and light purple dressing robe, bustled into the Great Hall looking quite flustered and out of breath. She shoved several students aside in her rush to the teacher's table. Tamblin and the twins leaned back against the wall to make themselves less noticeable, but they needn't have bothered. Umbridge was singularly focused on the staff members presently eating breakfast.

She started talking, shrieking really. Her voice was so fast and high pitched that Tamblin could scarcely make out any words from the continual whine. The few words he could make out brought a cruel smile to his lips. Umbridge was alternately demanding and pleading for help from the various staff. Most of the teachers in response were giving helpless blank looks or loading their plates up with additional helpings.

There were the occasional titters from the various tables as students noticed the Dark Arts Professor looking quite frantic.

Finally Umbridge noticed Filch at the entrance of the great hall and she turned to charge at him. The scrawny caretaker looked like he was going to be trampled by the squat woman but she passed to the side of him latching on to his arm and pulling him from the hall all while continuing her high pitched rant.

George frowned. "I like the effect, but it isn't one of ours. Yours?" he asked Tamblin.

Tamblin nodded.

"Don't keep us in suspense, Lothario," Fred said.

"Our dear Hogwarts High Inquisitor may be a few pets short this morning."

The twin gave him mirrored looks of confusion.

"You've seen her office?" Tamblin asked.

They nodded.

"I made a small substitution for one of her plates. The one I gave her has a manticore painted on the back where no one will notice."

"Crikey. So it went and ate some of her kittens?"

"I would guess Umbridge found a few plates empty this morning. The best part is that manticores are nocturnal, hunting in the early morning hours before dawn, so she's not likely to find the culprit unless she spends all night watching. Even then she has to figure out where the manticore lairs to get rid of it."

Fred smiled. "Nice, but won't it eat the kitten on its own plate first? Then it'll just get thrown out..."

Tamblin shook his head. "The kitten on the front side is painted with a sprig of ginger on its collar. Manticores can't stand the smell. So each night she'll lose a few kittens. My guess is she'll replace those plates immediately. She might eventually figure out that that specific kitten never gets eaten but I bet that'll take a while."

"Sneaky git," Fred said with admiration.

"Makes me feel a bit of the amateur, Fred," said George.

"Mum does say we need to apply ourselves, George."

"We each bring something different to the equation," said Nott. Tamblin hadn't noticed him approach. He reprimanded himself for not paying adequate attention.

"Oi, so what are you contributing?" Fred asked.

Nott smiled sweetly. "Perhaps you noticed that nobody at the table was too eager to help the distraught professor?'

"No surprise, that," said George. "They all hate her don't they?"

"As a matter of fact, they don't all," Nott said. "Some certainly hate her, and some are relatively neutral. I've been slowly moving those in the second category to the first."

"Isolating her," Tamblin said, suspicious of Nott.

Nott nodded. "That's step one."

"And step two," asked George.

"Well, once she's isolated, it shouldn't be too hard to push her to more and more extreme measures," Nott said simply.

"You want her to overreach until the ministry removes her from power," Tamblin said.

The Twins frowned. "Doesn't sound like much fun," George said.

Nott was silent, eyes on the floor, so Tamblin spoke up. "He isn't doing this for fun, or revenge. Nott's simply removing a threat as quietly and efficiently as possible."

Now Nott did look up at Tamblin and smiled.


	72. Chapter 72

The twins' devotion to the monkey wrenching had one negative side effect. They didn't have much time to spend on their merchant activities, which meant Hannah stopped being able to buy love philtres.

Pretty soon she'd stopped spending so much time with Justin, who looked understandably perplexed. She became more withdrawn and isolated until she had a total breakdown in Herbology and had to be taken to Madame Pomfrey for a calming draught.

Tamblin only heard about it after the fact. He watched Hannah across the great Hall, as she ignored Susan and Justin's attempts to talk to her. He ached for what she was going through but still could find no way to approach her that wouldn't make things worse. Looking at Cascata, he saw her sitting farther down the Hufflepuff table. She was whispering with Ernie and casting miserably guilty looks at her former friend.

He cursed his inaction while his friend suffered. Tamblin resolved he'd tackle the matter.


	73. Chapter 73

Life, busybody that it is, interfered with his plans in a most spectacular fashion. That night, whatever the group Susan and Hannah had been involved in got caught. Amazingly Dumbledore was sacked and had, according to rumor, fled in a midnight wand fight through the halls of the castle that had incapacitated several aurors. Tamblin had not been out for a walk and had been, mundanely enough, simply sleeping.

By morning the Ministry already had notices in place to the effect that Dolores Umbridge was appointed the new headmistress.

The twins were livid. They immediately started working on bigger, messier, and more volatile plans. Tamblin hoped that Madame Pomfrey had quantities of burn salve on hand.

Nor was this the end of the changes to the school that occurred overnight. Several of the Slytherin students suddenly sported small silver badges indicating their membership in the newly formed Inquisitorial Squad, Malfoy chief among them.

Tamblin considered what Nott had said about using Malfoy's ambition against him. Sure enough the blond Slytherin was soon strutting about, using his new power to bully anyone within sight. He was too enamored of his power and its application to effectively consolidate his position.

That very day an enormous quantity of enchanted fireworks were loosed inside the castle. The chaos caused was substantial, especially when Unbridge and Filch tried to stop the things. The twins had clearly charmed the fireworks to respond poorly to any party pooper who attempted to stop their displays.

Nott meanwhile had spread a rumor that the ministry considered Astronomy and Arithmancy to be muggle arts and not related to the magical education that befitted Hogwarts. The rumor suggested that the courses were not to be continued the following year. As a result Professors Sinistra and Vector were no more eager to help the new headmistress than Flitwick or McGonagall. Even the normally genial Professor Sprout became surly with Umbridge.

The only person on the staff who was with Umbridge was Filch. He was ecstatic that the days of corporal punishment had returned to Hogwarts. He even paid no mind when a group of second years passed him. The youngsters were chatting animatedly about how Umbridge said Squibs were going to be removed as soon as she had control of the school. Filch walked past them, smiling. Nott looked on, frustrated, for once, by the lack of reaction.


	74. Chapter 74

Amongst the chaos of the school falling apart, the various house heads announced that their fifth year students would be counseled for career advice. The Hufflepuffs mostly wanted to discuss various options at the Saturday study session before hand. Tamblin was annoyed that the seat Hannah normally took was currently filled by some Hufflepuff boy whose name he didn't even know.

As they discussed various options, Susan admitted that she was thinking about going into politics and working at the Ministry. Tamblin didn't think this would surprise anyone who knew her in the slightest, but Cascata gasped.

"What," Cascata demanded, suddenly stern.

Susan looked taken aback. "I just said I thought I'd try politics."

Cascata was livid. "After everything that's happened this year? After Umbridge and disbanding the Quidditch teams and sacking Dumbledore..."

Susan crossed her arms and adopted a very Susan look of stubbornness.

"That's why, Cassie! We need to have good people in the Ministry to stop this kind of thing. If I happen to become Minister of Magic while doing that, so be it."

Cascata's eyes flicked to where Hannah would have sat and then she rounded on Tamblin.

"Will you talk some sense into her?"

Tamblin shrugged. "Actually, I don't think it's a bad idea. It's clearly what she wants to do, and I wouldn't mind having a friend at the Ministry. If that friend happened to be Minister, so be it," he said and smiled at Susan.

Cascata gave up the argument as a lost cause. Susan was nearly impossible to convince anyway.

"Any idea what you want to do?" Tamblin asked Cascata.

She bit her lip and scanned the faces around her. "I was sort of thinking about becoming a Healer. I've talked with Madam Pomfrey some about it."

Cascata looked like she was afraid her classmates might laugh at her. None of her fellow Hufflepuffs seemed inclined to mock her choice. Susan used it as an opportunity to put the previous argument behind them, saying "I know you'd be really good at that, Cas."

Tamblin reflected that Cascata had certainly had some experience with healers in her life.


	75. Chapter 75

Tamblin showed up for the History of Magic review Sunday. Susan was late showing up. When she finally did show she slammed the classroom door, threw her book bag into a chair hard enough to knock it over, and finally kicked the table.

"Is there a problem?" Tamblin asked mildly.

"That stuffy, pompous, treacherous, selfish, bloated, conceited, self important, presumptuous, pretentious, puffed up, stuck up, overblown, bloated wind bag!"

"I was never sure why you started dating him..."

Susan punched him in the shoulder. "Not Ernie. _Fudge._ "

"Ah," Tamblin said as he rubbed his shoulder. "You met with the Minister again."

"Yes," she spat. "We're supposed to talk about my future with the Ministry. But he doesn't care about that. All he wants-" she broke off. "This whole thing was a stupid set up."

"What is it he wants, Susan?"

"He wanted me to spy on you. You and Cascata both. He made it sound like spying on you was a good way to get into the Ministry. He didn't call it spying but that's what it was."

"And you said 'no.'"

Susan glared at him. "What kind of person do you think I am? Of course I said 'no.' I said a few other things too. You only heard the end of the rant."

Tamblin smiled, "You said all that to Fudge?"

"Oh yeah." She looked around her at the classroom and sighed. "So anyway, there's no point with the History of Magic stuff. It doesn't matter."

"You don't have to give up," Tamblin said.

Susan slumped into a chair. "I just shouted about fifty things at the Minister of Magic that made him go all purple in the face. I don't think getting a good score on any O.W.L. will change things. And I wouldn't want to work for him anyway."

"Well, you know Fudge isn't going to be Minister forever, Susan."

She pursed her lips. "It would show him up, wouldn't it? And why should I let him ruin my dreams?"

Tamblin nodded.


	76. Chapter 76

Monday the Weasley twins left the school. They managed to pull their most impressive trick yet, and Tamblin had to admit that what it lacked in subtlety it made up for in sheer brazenness. An entire fifth floor corridor became a steaming, stinking swamp. Tamblin had to admire the industriousness of the gambit.

Still, the twins were caught by Filch and Umbridge and forced to flee the school, not unlike Dumbledore, before they could be punished for their actions. Tamblin was left watching them disappear in the gloom, with a sense of emptiness. Across the hall he saw Nott, his face unreadable. Without the twins, Tamblin was unsure of the Harlequin's Accord. He was too doubtful of Nott these days.

But if the Harlequin Accord was sundered, there were plenty of others eager to make up for it. Dozens of students seemed inspired by the Weasleys, so much so that dung bombs going off in the halls became more the rule than the exception.

The Inquisitorial Squad tried to catch the pranksters, but they were themselves often targets of misfortune. Tamblin noted that, while Nott hadn't joined the squad he'd conceived, Callista had. The young Slytherin girl looked to be abusing her power as badly as Malfoy. She marched through the halls calling out older students and docking points with a poisonous glee. Tamblin kept an eye on her until he found her confronting her sister Cascata. While she lorded her power over her elder sister, Tamblin smoothly withdrew and moved between them, before suddenly coming back to the world.

Callista blanched as a glaring Tamblin appeared right in front of her, looming over her as Callista matched her sister's petite stature. She stumbled back a few steps and, as Tamblin advanced on her menacingly, turned and fled down the hallway.

Cascata looked worried.

"Tamblin! Why'd you reveal your gift to her like that?"

"She already knew," he said. "No harm done."

"How could she know?"

Tamblin didn't answer. Cascata watched him closely.

"She's been close to Nott. Since this Inquisitorial Squad nonsense started she's been talking to Malfoy." Cascata shuddered. "The Death Eaters know, their kids know. She's with _them_. That's how she knows, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to tell you."

Cascata seemed to set aside the knowledge that her sister was cavorting with the people who killed her mother. "Thanks for the rescue, but it'll just make Callie more determined to get revenge. She's got too much anger to be scared off long."

"It'll remind her that I may always be watching. She'll be a little more cautious, wondering if I'm around. But you're right that sooner or later she'll work up the courage to come back. I want you to be extra careful, this isn't like when Dumbledore was in charge."

Cascata rolled her eyes. "Like I didn't notice, Tamblin. I'll be careful, but what about you? The Death Eater's kids are practically running the school now."

"I've been thinking about that. I made certain concessions to Dumbledore. With his departure I don't see that they are in force anymore."

Cascata tilted her head. "What are you talking about?"

"Remember when I tried to teach you chess?"

"Tried? I learned it just fine," Cascata said. "I just didn't like it."

"Regardless," Tamblin said, "I told you that it's better to keep the initiative. Same thing here."

Cascata put a hand on his arm. "I don't care about Malfoy or Nott or any of the others but don't hurt Callie. I know she's fallen in with a bad crowd but she's my sister. If I can just get past her anger I know I can reach her."

"She's the most dangerous of all of them to us. Nott is still trying to stay to the narrow, I think. Malfoy has a low cunning and powerful parents, but Callista knows you. She can twist the knife in your back." Tamblin left out how Callista had even tricked him by imitating her sister.

"This isn't a chess board, Tamblin. You can't reduce people to pieces and sides. She's just on the wrong side right now."

Tamblin sighed. "You might regret this later."

Cascata shrugged. "So what else is new?"


	77. Chapter 77

Tamblin met with Flitwick for his career counseling on Thursday in the professor's office. The Charms Professor's office was restored to its previous frantic nature. Flitwick greeted Tamblin warmly, as the student closed the office door on a small ledger that had tried to dart out. The book twitched on the floor like a dying bird in the door jam. Tamblin kicked the book lightly back into the office so he could seal the door before any other objects escaped. He made sure the door was latched before he began the task of wrestling a chair to submission.

"How are you, Tamblin?" Flitwick asked.

"Fine, Professor," He said while trying to pry the chair's arms apart so he could sit on it. "A little- ugh- concerned about the situation at the school, sir."

Flitwick's eyes darted to the office door before he whispered, "I as well, Tamblin. But we shouldn't discuss such things now."

"Of course," said Tamlin expecting Flitwick to start the career advice.

"And your girlfriend," Flitwick asked.

"I was thinking- what?"

"Your girlfriend; Miss Vega."

"She's- sir, I thought we were here for career advice."

Flitwick looked again at the door. "Oh we are, we are. It's just that the Headmistress," and Flitwick's voice became uncharacteristically venomous at the use of Umbridge's title, "has seen fit to drop in on the career advice for the more promising students. Naturally, I assumed she would come to yours."

"I see," said Tamblin.

"I actually was less irritated in this case."

"What do you mean, Professor," Tamblin asked.

"Well she's been pretty clearly trying to poach the best students. Filling their heads with nonsense about working for the Ministry of Magic," Flitwick said.

Tamblin grimaced. "But in my case you think she has a point?"

Flitwick answered carefully. "As a student of history I trust you've learned the difference between distasteful information and inaccurate information and similarly between a distasteful source and an incorrect source."

"Yes, sir. There is a muggle expression: even a broken clock is right twice a day."

Flitwick clapped his hands. "Delightful! Yes, the broken clock happens to be right here. With your continuing work in memory magic there are two good choices for careers that make use of your abilities. Working for the Ministry as an Obliviator would be a positive use of your work in this field."

"You said, 'two options,'" Tamblin remarked pointedly.

"Yes, well, of course another option is to pursue a more scholarly career. With your interest in history and your scholastic aptitudes it seems an ideal fit for you."

"What kind of scholastics did you mean," asked Tamblin, genuinely curious.

"Oh there are a number of options. Pure historical research supported by the publishing of treatise. Training and tutoring options. If you develop a high degree of mastery in memory magic you could be the one who trains Obliviators. Alternately, some wealthy families will pay well to have special tutoring for their less gifted scions. Essentially what you do for the Hufflepuffs, but paid."

Tamblin resisted an urge to snarl that his Hufflepuff friends weren't "less gifted," but clearly Flitwick had not intended the statement as a slight. Flitwick went on.

"If the idea of teaching appeals, you know you could endeavor to work here at Hogwarts. I'm sure this Ministry thing will all be worked out before that."

"Teach? As in as a Professor?"

Flitwick nodded. "Of course it is a lot of work, particularly if you were interested in one of the core magical skills- Charms, Transfigurations, Potions. The more specialized fields of knowledge are somewhat easier posts to obtain." Tamblin thought he detected a slight boastful tone to Flitwick's voice. "Personally I think it'd be a waste for you to teach anything but Transfiguration... or C _harms_."

"Charms?"

"A good field that, and heaven knows I'd like to retire some day."

"You really think I could do your job," Tamblin said

"Well, not 'til I'm done with it of course, but someday, my boy. Someday."

Tamblin considered a moment. "If I did... want to do that, how would I proceed?"

Flitwick grinned. "Well with the core magical skills usually the candidate applies to be an assistant professor. The assistant professor takes on some of the principle professor's classes, second years usually at first."

"Not first years?"

"No, we want to make sure that they get off to the best possible start. Teaching second years is easier than first, they already have the most basic habits down."

Tamblin remembered the endless drilling first year for wand movements. At times he heard "swish and flick' in his sleep. "I see your point."

"Of course it does require utmost dedication to the art, and, if I may say it requires being the center of attention much of the time."

Tamblin grimaced. "I hadn't thought about that."

Flitwick tilted his head. "I've noticed over the years you tend to be a bit shy."

"Yeah, there's some truth there," Tamblin admitted.

"I know you hardly need a career to support yourself, Tamblin, but it's a shame not to put that mind of yours to use." He looked again at the door. "I really thought Umbridge would impose on us. How odd."

Tamblin thought for a moment. "It does seem a bit odd, Professor." They caught eyes, mirrored looks of calculation reflected in them.


	78. Chapter 78

Umbridge seemed too busy to notice Tamblin, although on occasion he thought he saw on her face a smirk as he passed her in the halls. She had little to smirk about, what with the state of the school under her care. Dumbledore had somehow managed to seal his office against intrusion, forcing Umbridge to continue to use her original office, an office still plagued by night time depredations of her precious kittens.

Tamblin meanwhile also had precious little to smirk about. May was nearly finished, and he still hadn't figured out what to do about Hannah. He made his way to the usual Saturday study session only to find the room empty. Through the windows he could make out a stream of students moving towards the Quidditch field.

Quidditch. Tamblin vaguely recalled Cascata saying something about it yesterday before he tuned out completely. There must be a game. Tamblin wondered if Hannah would be there. He drifted down through the castle and out towards the pitch. Slowly a determination to address the matter once and for all grew in him.

As he passed into the field he found the game not yet started. Madame Hooch stood on the field straddling her broom stick but the teams were nowhere to be seen. He didn't know much about Quidditch as a game, but he knew it required players. The spectators had mostly finished filing into the stands and finding seats among friends. Tamblin made his way across the field to where the Hufflepuffs sat. He did so withdrawn so as not to draw attention. He found Hannah in the stands easily enough. She was the only Hufflepuff sitting alone. She was up near the top of the stands. Tamblin saw Susan down closer to the field. She turned and waved for Hannah to come down a couple times but Hannah didn't budge.

As Tamblin climbed the stands towards Hannah the teams came out on the field. Green Slytherin robes fluttered as their team shot out of the dressing area on their brooms. Almost as one the Hufflepuffs began a loud whistle. Their whistle rose in pitch and was then overpowered by another whistle higher and louder still. Tamblin turned around and saw the Hufflepuffs emerge, Cascata's Fluyt broom singing loudly as the wind rushed through the holes in the wood.

" _The teams are on the field_ ," said the greatly magnified voice of an older Gryffindor student. " _This is the next to last match of the year and I know I speak for everyone when I say that I hope Hufflepuff wins so Gryffindor still has a shot at the cup. Yes, yes, Professor McGonagall is waving at me to say she agrees completely, but Madame Hooch is ready to start the game so let's go._ "

Tamblin stopped a moment, drawn by the strenuous attention of the spectators, to look at the field where the teams were arrayed facing each other. Madame Hooch opened a heavy wooden chest, releasing two ominous looking metal balls. Tamblin knew they were called bludgers from Cascata's try out second year. After the Bludgers came a small streak of gold that was quickly lost against the brightness of the sky. The game began as Madam Hooch threw a last ball in amidst the waiting players.

" _And that's an early possession for Slytherin,_ " the announcer boomed. " _Montague snatched the Quaffle and is driving for the Hufflepuff hoops. Montague is well known for having a variety of skin rashes in places not normally observed- and he missed, his shot went wide, but Warrington has recovered the Quaffle for Slytherin and he scores. Come on Hufflepuffs, you'll have to do better than that!_ "

Tamblin sat down next to Hannah and gradually came back to the world. When Hannah noticed him sitting there she stiffened and looked away.

"Hannah, let's talk. This has gone on long enough."

Hannah refused to look at him, focused instead on the game. She started to open her mouth to say something but the announcer's voice cut in.

" _Warrington with the quaffle again and- no he's fumbled it in a desperate attempt to avoid a bludger. That bludger came out of nowhere which can only mean one thing; Cascata 'the Screamer' Vega's patented swoop shot. The Screamer gets her name from the high pitched whistle her broom makes as she dives on a poor helpless bludger. Rumor has it the name may have more than one meaning though..._ "

Hannah cringed at hearing Cascata's name.

"I've made a mess of everything," she said miserably.

"That's not true, Hannah. We just hit a rough spot, that's all. Nothing that can't be fixed," Tamblin said.

"How do we fix this? Cassie and I haven't spoken in months. You and I shouldn't even be speaking, especially not like this where she might see."

"It's fine, Hannah. Cascata wants to patch things up. She wants you back in her life," Tamblin said.

"I know that," Hannah said fiercely. "I know she'd welcome me back and be sweet and like a sister to me. I know she would. But I don't deserve it."

" _Slytherin scores on a double pass feint play. The Hufflepuffs could probably do that if Zacharias Smith could ever remember to pass the ball! Sage has the Quaffle and she's really tearing it up out there. Yowza! Crabbe with a bludger at Sage, but the Hufflepuffs send it right back in his face. That's going to leave a mark. Sage passes to Cadwallader who scores! Cadwallader is a new addition to the team. Believe it or not he's only a third year. Rumors of giant parentage are unconfirmed._ "

"Cassie's playing really well," Hannah said distantly.

"You know there is a downside to strong loyalty," Tamblin said. "You are inflating a small slight into an unforgivable crime."

Hannah looked at him. "She can forgive but do you really think she'll be able to forget? Or will she always wonder? How can she trust us to be friends? Things can't go back to how they were."

 _"That makes the score fifty-twenty in the Slytherin's favor, folks. I'd just like to point out that Sage refused to go out with me second year. I think this drubbing by the Slytherin team is directly related to that mistake on her part."_

"Maybe things can't go back to what they were, but they don't have to stay like this either," Tamblin said. "You don't like how things are now, do you?"

Hannah just looked at him with bloodshot eyes.

"Didn't think so."

He waited a bit to let it sink in.

"Look at it this way- do you risk anything by trying?" Tamblin squeezed Hannah's arm and felt he muscles trembling. "So much to gain, so little to lose."

Hannah shifted slightly closer to him.

"I've missed you," She said.

"I've missed you too." Tamblin was careful not to turn to face her. He was afraid of doing that when sitting so close.

"You've really missed me?"

"Yes. We all have, I mean. You're our friend and I- we all want you back in our lives."

Hannah was looking at him, he could feel her breath on his neck.

Her voice came out oddly husky, "do you want to kiss me, Tamblin?"

"Yes," he admitted after a moment.

She turned back to face the game and shifted just slightly away. "Then you know what I have to lose. I can hurt those I love even more."

" _The Slytherins are on a rampage and the score is eighty-twenty. Come on Hufflepuffs, this is getting painful to watch!_ "

Hannah suddenly gasped and Tamblin tore his eyes from her to look out at the field but he couldn't follow what was going on.

" _The Slytherin beaters tried to take out the Screamer, hitting bludgers at her from both sides._ "

Tamblin couldn't tell which player was Cascata but he could hear her broom whistle.

" _I guess there's something to be said for small beaters after all. And here she comes back down sending one of the bludgers right back at Goyle. Oh! He's just hanging on to his broom by one hand folks. He's...yes I can see the fingers slipping... and he's down! Madame Pomfrey is moving onto the field to check on him. It's not clear which is the more badly hurt, his face or his ego, right now. Looks like Vega's got a bit of a temper._ "

Hannah gave Tamblin a pointed look.

" _I pity any person or persons giving her reason to be mad at them._ "

"Oh, come _on_ ," Tamblin muttered and Hannah giggled.

" _Both their Beaters bloodied, the bad boys of black and green keep going. Now would be a very good time to catch the Snitch, Summerby! Can't pass it off on a head cold this time._ "

Tamblin reached out and took Hannah's hand. "Let's all just sit down and talk about things. Please, Hannah, if not for yourself, then for me and Cascata and Susan. We're suffering your absence." He squeezed her hand. "Please."

She squeezed his hand back and nodded her head slightly.

" _He's done it! Summerby has caught the snitch! Final score Slytherin one hundred fifty points, Hufflepuff one hundred seventy. Hufflepuff wins! I'd just like to say "you're welcome" to the Hufflepuff team for my game winning strategy of catching the snitch. Sage feel free to make it up to me later._ "

Tamblin stood up. "I'm going to go talk to Cascata. You made the right decision, Hannah."

She didn't answer. On his way out of the stands he caught up to Susan.

"Susan, I convinced Hannah to sit down with us so we can talk things through."

"You did? Great! When? Now?"

"I want to talk to Cascata first; can you stick to Hannah and make sure she doesn't second guess herself?"

Susan nodded. "Oh, yeah. I am on it. Come on Ernie, we got a lost little doggie to corral."

"Uh... what?" Tamblin said. Ernie gave him a confused look before Susan yanked him away through the crowd towards Hannah.

Tamblin made his way through the students to the dressing room exit. A soft rain fell forcing the various well wishers, friends, and fans up to the castle. Tamblin thought the rain felt refreshing and he enjoyed it while waiting for Cascata to come out. The rest of the Quidditch team emerged before her. Those who were in Tamblin's year waved at him, recognizing him from the study sessions.

Cascata finally emerged, still flushed with excitement and exertion. She bounded over to Tamblin and hugged him.

"I didn't know you were going to come to the game. You picked a good one. I walloped Crabbe something good, and I almost hit Goyle but he fell off his broom anyway so that's good too."

Tamblin had to smile at her enthusiasm. "It looked like you did very well. You and...uh... Summerby is it?"

"Yeah, Jonas saved us. The Slytherin offense was really good. I can't believe you came to a game."

"Uh. Yeah. Well I figured I should support my girlfriend. It ended up being a good thing too, because I managed to talk to Hannah."

Cascata sombered. "Oh. How did that go?"

"I think I convinced her to sit down with us so we can sort everything out."

"Oh."

"That's good, isn't it," asked Tamblin.

"Yeah. I'm sorry it is good, it just might be a little painful getting everything out."

"I know, but I think it's the only way we fix things."

Cascata smiled. "Yeah. It's for the best-"

"Enjoy the game?" came a sneering voice.

Tamblin and Cascata turned around to find the entire Slytherin team glowering at them, with the exception of Goyle who had been spirited off to the hospital wing.

"We won, didn't we?" said Cascata and she smiled sweetly at them.

"I suppose it's good you won," said Malfoy. "It'll give you something to remember the school by."

Tamblin started to say something when he was struck from behind by a Stunning spell. He collapsed to the ground on his face, still conscious but unable to move. Cascata hit the ground next to him a second later. The Slytherin team howled with laughter.

Someone approached him, heavy footsteps. They came from the direction from which he'd been stunned. A hand flipped him over and he looked up into round full moon face of the Auror Garrant. Next to Garrant tiny Callista was turning over her sister.

Garrant sneered at Tamblin. "The Headmistress and Minister have decided that another facility would be more appropriate for a freak like you. Say goodbye to Hogwarts."

This time the spell did knock him unconscious.


	79. Chapter 79

Tamblin woke up in a peculiar type of cell. The floor was stone, and he lay upon a simple cot. There was a dingy chamber pot as well. Oddly enough the walls were concealed by a curtain that stretched all four sides of the cell. His normal clothing had been replaced with simple grey clothes that had "Property of Ministry of Magic" written on the front and back. His wand, of course, was missing.

Tamblin sat up and almost fell over. His head started spinning as soon as he moved, and he had to wait some time before he felt capable of standing. He staggered to the curtain and tried to draw it back but couldn't. The curtain wouldn't slide along the curtain rods and was affixed to rods at the floor and ceiling so he couldn't simply lift the edge. He struggled with the curtain for a while before he had to lay down again. He fell asleep.

He awoke to the sound of voices. The curtain swiftly slid open of its own accord with a dull scraping sound. The cell walls appeared to be made of glass so that Tamblin could see the surrounding room now that the curtain had withdrawn to one corner. The room was fairly large, easily encompassing two glass cells as well as a desk and several tables of magical doodads that resembled some of the items Dumbledore kept in his study. There were two men, one of which was Garrant, currently looking at the desk.

None of which he cared about because Cascata was in the second cell. Her eyes were puffy from obvious crying. When she saw Tamblin she launched herself to the edge of her cell and put a hand up on the glass. Tamblin smiled at her weakly.

"Good morning, children," said Garrant. "I'm your new teacher, Professor Garrant. I should tell you that the tests in my class are particularly unpleasant." He laughed.

'You're an Auror, Garrant," Tamblin said. "Surely you know how illegal this action is. When the Wizengamot-"

"You're not up on current events, kid. I've moved up in the world. Way up. I'm an Unspeakable now. That means nobody who cares knows where you are. The Wizengamot isn't going to do a blessed thing. You're nothing but a rat in a cage."

The other man with Garrant frowned. "Such displays are unseemly, Garrant. The specimens are here for study, not taunting." The man wore a white robe lined with pockets, most of which were full of various metal implements. He had a fairly handsome face except for a weak chin. He moved forward and addressed Tamblin and Cascata. "I am Gilbert, researcher and Unspeakable. You have been extended a compulsory invitation to assist the Department of Mysteries with certain inquiries. The Ministry thanks you for your cooperation in this matter. From this point forward your identities are a secret matter, and you will be known simply as specimen #1," he said pointing at Tamblin, "and specimen #2," as he pointed at Cascata. "Until this inquiry is satisfied the specimens have no legal rights or recourse. All conversations in this room are being recorded. Shall we begin?"

Gilbert glanced at both of his specimens, took a small breath and began dictating.

"We have substantial, although mostly circumstantial, information that specimen #1 has a magic ability that was previously unknown. Said magic is believed to be directly tied to observation and perception. Furthermore our information to date suggests there is a strong, if unexplained, connection between specimen #1 and specimen #2, which requires them to be within proximity or specimen #1 will suffer maladjustive social behaviors. We may test this later but, as the first round of investigation relies upon voluntary cooperation, for now proximity will be maintained. Subjects are able to see each other and communicate verbally but cannot physically touch."

Gilbert gestured to Garrant, who retrieved several rolls of parchment and two quills from the table. He passed these into the cages through the holes, letting them drop to the floor when neither Cascata nor Tamblin moved to take them.

"To begin with the specimens will fill out detailed family trees, as well as medical and personal histories. These will provide a background from which to proceed. I expect filling these out will take most of the rest of the day. I will collect the completed works tomorrow."

"Why should we cooperate?" asked Cascata.

"Specimens indicate a measure of defiance not atypical for their apparent age group and also common among compulsory invitees. Application of positive and negative behavioral feedback loops will be used to produce desired cooperation."

Gilbert looked at Cascata and spoke as if she hadn't heard his previous dictation. "Cooperation is required or sustenance will be withheld."

"If we don't write, we don't eat," Cascata said.

Garrant piped up, "Actually if you don't write, he doesn't eat, and vice versa."

"As the junior researcher has observed, this is a two stage behavioral modification. Lack of cooperation on the part of one specimen will result in lack of nutrition to the other specimen, leading to social pressure to cooperate based upon previous interpersonal relationships. Full cooperation will result in adequate nutrition as well as potential positive reinforcements for the specimens. In case of extreme uncooperative behavior applications of veritaserum may be used. Lastly, difficulty in the initial steps of inquiry may cause the project to move ahead immediately to the physical testing portion. Previous experience suggests that specimens find the notion of answering question less frightening than having physical tests conducted upon them."

Gilbert looked from Tamblin to Cascata.

"Application of behavioral feedback appears successful based upon immediate physical observation of specimens. I will collect the paper work tomorrow." He turned to Garrant. "Feed them on time and the appropriate measure for cooperative specimens. Knowledge that this may be their last meal is often useful in reinforcing the behavioral feedback."

With that Gilbert left. Tamblin couldn't decide whether he was more insulted or impressed with the man's ability to completely ignore that his 'specimens' could hear his every word about what was going to be done to them. Garrant sneered at Tamblin and then left too.

They were quiet a minute.

"Tamblin," Cascata whispered, "what are we going to do?"

"Cooperate, for now at least. We have to drag this out as long as possible. Plenty of people will know we've gone missing. Sooner or later the ministry will have to release us."

Cascata looked skeptical.

"Or maybe the Ministry has already leaked a story to the Daily Prophet saying we've been killed by Death Eaters. With control of the paper and Umbridge controlling Hogwarts, what's to stop them saying anything they want about what happened to us?"

Tamblin considered this. "I don't think they'd be able to fool everyone. Amelia Bones, for instance, would probably see through such a deception. Then there are the various teachers at Hogwarts who don't trust Umbridge, like Flitwick and McGonagall." He shook his head. "No, there are too many people who will suspect something. Help is on the way, we just have to bide our time," but Tamblin doubted his own words.


	80. Chapter 80

Tamblin and Cascata filled out the paperwork. There was an amazing amount of it. The Ministry seemed to want to know every detail of everyone they had ever met. Tamblin was mostly truthful with the exception of the most sensitive issues such as the existence of the empty places and his suspicions about his parentage.

Garrant appeared again only once to slide a tray of food into each cell. He left again without saying anything. Tamblin thought that maybe the man was chafing under the apparently rigid control of Gilbert as head researcher. Maybe that was something they could use. The more Tamblin thought about it the less he believed they could expect any outside assistance.

The curtains seemed to sense their intentions, closing to allow privacy when they wanted to use the chamber pot or when they finally, hands aching from writing, laid down to sleep.


	81. Chapter 81

The curtains opened again with the arrival of Gilbert. He collected the paperwork from each cell with a simple flick of a steel handled wand.

"Cursory inspection suggests the specimens have completed their assignments. The rest of today will be spent in analysis of the data provided." He stopped as Garrant entered the room. "Assistant researcher will provide the midday meal. Dinner will be provided based on how well the personal, family, and medical histories match with official documents." He started to leave.

"Can we have some parchment and quills," Tamblin asked. "Or something to pass the time?"

Gilbert turned back to him. "Specimen #1 appears sufficiently recovered from the invitation process to begin testing boundaries. Behavioral feedback will be reinforced." Gilbert spoke to Tamblin this time, "Positive reinforcement depends upon maximum cooperation." He held up the sheaves of parchment. "Your degree of cooperation is not yet determined."

Gilbert left, as did Garrant. Tamblin and Cascata were left alone again, although they suspected they were being monitored, listened to at least. With nothing to do they sat in their respective cells and stared. They tried a few times to start a conversation, but the inhibition of being listened to made it difficult. In addition, the physical distance between the cells reinforced a feeling of isolation, despite being able to see each other.

Tamblin's mind wandered. He found himself wondering at the various decisions made by himself and others that had lead to his captivity in the Department of Mysteries. The machinations of Voldemort and Dumbledore and the Ministry and Death Eaters seemed to spin like webs around him all his life so that he was forced inevitably down to this place- and he'd dragged Cascata along.

"I wonder what Hannah and Susan are doing," she said suddenly.

There was a long pause.

"I don't know." He looked at Cascata and thought he might have seen her glaring. Was she realizing that she would be free and relatively safe back at Hogwarts if not for him? Writing down her family and medical histories would have forced her to review her life. Did she regret befriending him, now that it had led to this ultimate indignity?

At dinner time Garrant came back again with food for both. Tamblin assumed that meant Gilbert was satisfied with their answers on the forms. They ate mostly in silence.

"They might try to feed us potions through the food," Cascata said at one point.

"Yeah, I don't think there's much we can do about that though."

Cascata nodded half heartedly and went back to her food.

When Garrant came back to deal with their dishes he carried with him a slim envelope That Tamblin recognized immediately. He leaned against the glass of Cascata's cell and opened it carefully. He unfolded the delicate parchment within, and with a theatrical clearing of the throat he began to read.

"'Master Demosthene,' oh that's very formal. 'On behalf of the noble house of Giovanni,'" Garrant accented each word with mocking flourishes, "whose distinction is uncontested in quality and purity, I entreat your consent to blessed nuptial arrangement with my exquisite and most beloved sister Celestia.'" Garrant wolf whistled. "Signed 'with deepest respect and boundless love, Celestine Giovanni.'" He looked at the note speculatively. "Is this what upper crusty types consider a mash note? Seems kind of poofy."

Tamblin glared at Garrant, who laughed. Garant tossed the note into Cascata's cage. Tamblin noticed for the first time the look on her face. She looked shocked and she snatched at the slip of paper as it fell to the floor. As Garrant left, still laughing, Cascata read the note intensely.

She looked up at Tamblin finally. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

Tamblin shrugged. "I hadn't decided what to do about it yet."

Tamblin's answer was clearly not what she wanted to hear. She hissed at him, "what do you mean; you hadn't decided what to do? Tamblin, are you thinking of saying 'yes?'"

"I have to think about the matter. It's complicated," he said.

Cascata snorted. "It's complicated, huh? Who is this 'Celestia?'"

"A Beauxbatons student. She and her brother Celestine were at Hogwarts during the Triwizard Tournament."

"And you... like her?"

"I don't really know her," Tamblin said matter-of-factly.

"You don't really know her but you are thinking about marrying her," Cascata asked incredulously.

"Her family is powerful, their resources are substantial, and my house is at war with the Death Eaters."

"You wouldn't be marrying her family, you're talking about marrying _her_."

Tamblin shrugged. "She's pureblooded..."

Cascata looked stunned for a moment, and then nodded slowly. "Pureblood. Of course you'd want to marry a pureblood. Couldn't dirty up the Demosthene blood, after all."

Neither one said anything for a while.

"When were you going to tell me?" Cascata asked quietly.

"I told you I was trying to decide what to do."

"That's not what I meant. When were you going to tell me that we couldn't- my dad's a muggle, Tamblin."

"I didn't think it was something fifteen-year-olds had to worry about," he said.

Cascata gave him a look and held up the note.

"Yeah. I hadn't planned on that," Tamblin admitted and smiled.

Cascata didn't find it funny.

"I'm going to bed," She said simply before the curtains slid shut.


	82. Chapter 82

"The specimen's voluntary data has been reviewed. Family histories indicate a couple of possibly pertinent details. Specimen #1 claims his mother was taught magic that was passed on in some manner. This magic reputedly was taught to the specimen's mother by He Who Must Not Be Named, who in turn learned it from some unknown source. Specimen #2 is a descendant of Casandra Trelawney, a witch with a well documented facility for divination magics. Other family relations appear incidental and medical histories are mundane."

Gilbert addressed Tamblin. "Reports indicate that you can make yourself invisible without the use of a wand, potion, or other item. Please demonstrate this capability."

Garrant looked up from the desk where he had been writing. Tamblin took a deep breath and withdrew. Garrant's mouth opened and he dropped his quill. Gilbert watched impassively.

"Specimen #1 has vanished from sight without any apparent use of external magical apparatus. Please become visible again."

Tamblin came back.

"Specimen #1 has become visible again. There are no apparent side effects of his disappearance and reappearance. Successful verification of ability with voluntary response warrants continued voluntary data collection. Specimen #2, were you able to observe Specimen #1 when he seemed invisible?"

Cascata didn't look up from the floor. "No. I can see him a little better than you do, but if he withdraws far..."

Tamblin wondered that she didn't use his name. Did that mean anything? He pushed the thoughts aside. He was watching Gilbert carefully, trying to will what had happened with Susan to happen now. If he could feel as Gilbert did, it might give them some leverage. Gilbert continued to question Cascata about what she could and couldn't see.

Tamblin tried at first to concentrate hard on the man. Then he tried to memorize the man's features. Finally he tried just letting his mind go blank while looking at Gilbert. Nothing worked to produce the flashes of insight he'd had with Susan, and Tamblin finally quit in frustration.

Gilbert questioned them for hours about the ability; how it worked, what it could do, how long they had respectively known about it, what if anything they knew of its origins, and what side effects the power had. They finally quit for the day with Gilbert casually observing that questioning would continue the next. They were fed and this time ate without interruption. Neither seemed to have anything they could or would say to the other.


	83. Chapter 83

The questioning went on for over a week in all. Eventually Gilbert set up various magical apparatus around the cage as he had Tamblin withdraw over and over again. He made remarks for the benefit of the record about the results but they made little sense to Tamblin. The day after, they were brought another set of family, personal, and medical histories to fill out. The forms were identical to the first set. Cascata protested.

"We've already told you all of this," She shouted and threw the papers against the glass.

"Specimen #2 is displaying agitation and rebellious impulses. Specimen #1 will skip the next meal to provide appropriate negative social reinforcement."

"Wait...," she said weakly.

"Analysis of histories will take most of tomorrow with additional cross checking with first answers to look for discrepancies. The day after that we should be ready for physical testing to commence."

Gilbert started to leave.

"I said 'wait!'" Cascata banged on the glass as Gilbert continued to leave but he ignored her. "I'll do your damn paperwork. You don't have to..." but she broke down crying before she could finish the sentence.

Tamblin tried to comfort her but she crawled over to her cot and the Curtain quickly slid closed, hiding her from view. Tamblin knew the punishment wouldn't be that bad. Gilbert didn't yet understand that by partially withdrawing Tamblin could diminish his need for food. Cascata should have realized that, but the captivity seemed to be eating at her badly. Tamblin suspected she wasn't thinking clearly enough to work it out, and he couldn't tell her without revealing it to Gilbert through whom- or what-ever was observing them and recording all conversations in the room.

Tamblin worked through the papers again.


	84. Chapter 84

The next day Gilbert arrived as usual. He summoned the parchments from their cells and began to look at them. Cascata was still on her cot, the sheet pulled up over her, like a small child afraid of monsters in the night.

Gilbert placed the parchments on the desks.

"Specimen #1 appears to have completed the assignment. Specimen #2 has not. Social reinforcement was insufficient to induce cooperative behavior. Perhaps social attachments have atrophied or were not as strong as initial reports suggested. Direct negative reinforcement will be used on the specimen to elicit the desired result-"

"Leave her alone, Gilbert," Tamblin said.

"Specimen #1 appears to be protective of second specimen. Social reinforcement will continue to be applied to modulate specimen #1's behavior."

Garrant laughed. "From now on anyone does something wrong and its girly-girl that suffers."

"That's enough, Garrant," snapped Gilbert.

"You don't need to do this," said Tamblin.

"Feed specimen #1," Gilbert remarked. "Specimen #2 doesn't eat until she complies." He started to leave the room.

Tamblin watched the man walk away and it happened. He was there, feeling what it was to be Gilbert. Without knowing what he was doing Tamblin started talking. The words came from some deep space inside, a place of inner knowledge, of self knowledge.

"You don't like yourself very much, do you, Gilbert? The act helps, though. You walk in to the department and you're no longer Gilbert. No longer a deeply flawed person. You're 'the Researcher.'"

Gilbert stopped and looked back at Tamblin.

"It's just some professional robot who acts without emotion. Who does the job without pity... or thrill. Because that's the real secret. It isn't your empathy you have to suppress but your sadism. You enjoy the power and using it to hurt others. It excites you, even though you know it shouldn't. So you pretend it isn't you at all doing these things. You pretend that the Researcher is something else from the man. And you don't like Garrant because you don't like how similar you are."

"Specimen #1-" Gilbert started.

"Remember when your neighbor's dog had puppies? You were still just a kid, and you stole one of the newborn pups to see what would happen as you poked and prodded it, burned it and squeezed it. And you, Gilbert, _you_ liked it. Even as a kid you used discovery as an excuse. Your own attempt to mimic your father. You thought you could be him if you just acted cold enough. But daddy wasn't happy with that you did to the pup, was he? If anyone should be embarrassed by the comparison between you two it's Garrant. He's shallow and petty, but nowhere near the monster you are, Gilbert."

For the first time Tamblin could see obvious emotion on Gilbert- barely restrained anger. The connection broke, and Tamblin was just himself again.

When Gilbert spoke his words were clipped and even more precise than usual.

"Garrant, instead of waiting on Cas- specimen #2's histories, we'll be moving ahead to the physical examination portion. Get everything prepared today so we can start tomorrow."

Garrant nodded. As Gilbert left the room, Garrant stared at Tamblin uncertainly.

When Garrant came back with food he brought meals for both of them. When he looked in on Tamblin he had an apprehensive air. Perhaps worried that Tamblin would see into his soul. Cascata remained in her cot all day.

Tamblin tried to rest up to have energy for the physical testing.


	85. Chapter 85

Gilbert devoted his attention exclusively to Tamblin, for all intents ignoring Cascata's existence. Tamblin was grateful for that, as the thought of Cascata being subjected to the physical testing horrified him. Every day they had some new horror to inflict upon him.

They would come for him in the mornings, carefully attaching a collar to him while he was still caged. Garrant would not meet Tamblin's eyes while they did this. Then they took him off to an adjoining room. This room was fairly large but never looked the same twice. It was always set up to run whatever tests Gilbert had planned that day.

He was poked and prodded. He was left in a constricting airtight box for hours. He was forced to drink all manner of potions to see if any reacted unusually with his gift. He was locked in small chambers with vicious animals to test if any of them could detect him. He was exposed to various substances, some with the most bizarre effects.

On the rare days that they had no tests planned he mostly slept in his cot. He awoke one of these days to hear voices whispering. He tried to make out what they said but could not. As he stood from his cot the curtain automatically retracted. Garrant was standing by Cascata's cell and the two had clearly been whispering through one of the holes in the wall. At the sound of the curtain sliding they both straightened up looking guilty. Garrant glared at Tamblin, but weakly, and stomped out of the room.

"What-," Tamblin started to say but Cascata put a finger to her lips. She pointed to her ear and then the ceiling.

Tamblin stifled his questions but he sent a hard look at Cascata. She smiled weakly in return and put a hand up on the cage. Thinking about it, Tamblin realized she'd looked a little more active recently, less beaten down by the imprisonment. He felt a slow burning anger. Here he was suffering daily torture, in part to spare her, and she was enjoying some secret whispered conspiracy with Garrant of all people! He sat with his back to her until he felt up to returning to his cot. He was careful not to look at her before the curtains slid shut again.


	86. Chapter 86

Tamblin couldn't tell if it was because he was becoming unanchored or simply due to the weeks of imprisonment and torture but he found himself filling with rage. The temptation to lash out, physically at his captors and emotionally at Cascata, was becoming undeniable.

So when he was returned to his cell one evening, after another day of tests, he ignored Cascata's hiss to get his attention.

"Tamblin," she whispered urgently. He sat down against the edge of his cage with his back to her.

"Tamblin!"

Listlessly he pointed to his ear and at the ceiling.

"This is important," she hissed. "I have to tell you this."

Tamblin turned his head slightly towards her.

"Garrant says-"

At the name Tamblin turned away again.

"Tamblin!"

He got up and went to his cot, again causing the curtain to hide him from Cascata.

The next morning they did not come to get him for tests. Garrant dropped off a meal for each of them. Tamblin glared at the man but Garrant still wouldn't look at him. Cascata tried to whisper something to Garrant when he delivered her food but he shook his head and left. She dropped her head into her hands and started sobbing.

"Had a tiff?" Tamblin asked in a voice like acid.

"What," Cascata asked incredulously.

Tamblin didn't reply.

"Tamblin, listen, Garrant told me that Gilbert is trying to get permission for a dissection. _Dissection_ , Tamblin. Of you. That's probably where he is today, getting the okay to do it."

"Garrant's making things up to get to you."

"I don't think so. I think he feels guilty about what's being done to you-"

"Garrant hates me."

"Well, yeah," Cascata admitted. "Really, it's more dislike than hate. But he still feels a little bad about you, and really guilty about me because he doesn't have anything against me in the first place."

"I bet."

Cascata stared at him. "Tamblin, what is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with you? You break down until they start torturing me and then you perk right up! You start having little meetings with Garrant..." Tamblin could feel tears of frustration welling up.

"Tamblin," Cascata's voice was hushed,"I 'perked' up because Garrant started seeming guilty. I thought we had a chance to get out of this. If I could befriend him, make it harder for him to go through with all this. I've been trying my hardest to get him to stop it all. But now I'm too late. He isn't sure and we don't have any more time. I failed." She dropped her head back into her hands.

Tamblin watched, trying to decide if he believed her. Eventually he found he did, but his anger, even bereft of cause, still pulsed inside him. He knew he should say something to comfort her. He just couldn't make himself do it.

He wrestled with his anger. It was strong, fed by his sense of injustice, his humiliation, and his fear of an approaching gruesome death. _I am not my mother. I am not a rabid dog. I will not surrender to rage or lose my faculties to unreasoning anger_. Tamblin fought back the fury within him bit by bit. Synapse by synapse he fought for his mind.

"I'm sorry," he said weakly and through gritted teeth.

Cascata raised her head and sniffled. "What?"

"I'm sorry. For not trusting you. Sorry."

Cascata nodded. "It's okay, I can't imagine what you've been through. Every time I saw them bring you back from... wherever they did that stuff to you I- Well I knew I had to do something to get us out of here."

There was a pause.

"What are we going to do, Tamblin?"

He didn't have an answer for her.


	87. Chapter 87

Tamblin didn't sleep that night, and not because of being withdrawn. In the early hours of the morning he heard noises in the adjoining room. He wondered if Gilbert was eager to get an early start on his vivisection.

The curtains of the cells suddenly slid open. Two men stood in the shadowed entrance to the room but they were not Gilbert and Garrant after all. Tamblin felt a moment of relief until they stepped forward and he could recognize them. The wide bodied man he'd last seen speaking to a Dementor, in Azkaban. The other slender fellow with the pugdog face he only recognized from the dossier.

"Lestrange. Catarhein. Death Eaters," Tamblin whispered.


	88. Chapter 88

"See," Catarhein said triumphantly. "I told you Rudolphus. Demosthene is here and his mudblood wench too."

Cascata looked petrified. She stood very still and said nothing.

Rudolphus slowly approached Tamblin's cell, ignoring Catarhein's squeaky voice.

"I do appreciate symmetry. Last time we met, you looked in on my prison, Tamblin."

Catarhein continued to talk to Rudolphus' back. "And you were worried! Ha. How the Dark Lord will be pleased when he finds out."

Catarhein couldn't see Rudolphus face, but Tamblin could and he paled at the look of murderous hatred that appeared there. When Rudolphus spoke it was deceptively quiet.

"'When he finds out,' Catarhein? ' _When_ he finds out?' So this was not an errand given to you by our Lord?"

Catarhein blanched.

Rudolphus voice steadily grew in volume and ferocity. "At this moment our fellows pursue the prophecy that the Dark Lord demanded, and here I am diverted by your petty schemes!"

Catarhein cringed. "The Lord wants the child of the Invisible. Has he not said so in our presence? And many of the other Death Eaters would be tempted to see the boy dead for the harm he has caused us. But you- I knew _you_ were more loyal to our Lord than to your bank account. Your wife is more than capable of taking the prophecy from the child."

Rudolphus looked slightly mollified. Tamblin quickly brought to mind everything that the reports on the Death Eaters had said about both of them. There was little information on Lestrange because he'd been in Azkaban, and not a target. Catarhein had escaped incarceration. He was an ambitious little weasel, whose primary asset to the death eaters was an oily disposition useful for coaxing information out of others. And when that failed...

"I'll never give Voldemort the information he wants," Tamblin said.

Rudolphus spun around to look at Tamblin, his face contorted into a mixture of smile and grimace.

"That's not a name for you to say, child."

Catarhein was moving forward meanwhile.

"Rudolphus, the child has information our lord wants."

"I trust to our lord's ability to extract it, Catarhein."

Catarhein's eyes flicked left and right. "It may be tricky getting him out of here." He held up his hands defensively at Rudolphus's look. "We will try, of course, but what if he dies in the attempt? It would be safer for us to have the information first..."

Rudolphus seemed to be considering this but Catarhein's wand was already pointing at Tamblin. Tamblin filled his mind with one thought.

"Catarhein, wa-" Rudolphus started.

"Legilimens," Catarhein said.

Tamblin could feel Catarhein invading his mind but as the Death Eater looked into Tamlin's thoughts he found only two large yellow eyes looking back.

Catarhein screamed and collapsed to his knees. Rudolphus looked on, curious but unperturbed. Catarhein's wand fell to the floor as he covered his face with both hands. When he pulled them away they were wet and red, his eyes were filled with blood that cascaded down his cheeks as he screamed.

"Crucio," Rudolphus said calmly. Tamblin flinched but the spell was aimed at his fellow Death Eater. Catarhein's screams took on a greater intensity and he began to thrash on the floor.

"I've never liked you, Catarhein. Of course, nobody does. Many of us resented the way you avoided Azkaban. Crouch and I used to play a game where we'd try to think up the best way to torture and kill you and Snape and the others. I'd dearly like to make this last."

Rudolphus stopped to listen to the man's screams.

"But I don't have time. Avada Kedavra!" Green light flashed from Lestrange's wand to Catarhein, ending his suffering. "Incendio Corpus." Deep purple flames sprang up from Catarhein's body, quickly consuming it, leaving only greasy ashes behind on the floor.

Rudolphus looked up at Tamblin. "The Dark Lord does want you, perhaps enough to overlook my mistake. Time to come home, Demosthene." He raised the wand.

Tamblin withdrew. Rudolphus stopped for a moment.

"Do you really imagine that the Dark Lord has no countermeasure for simple invisibility? Bewray!"

A cone of amber light sprung from Rudolphus' wand filling most of the cell. When it touched Tamblin he felt himself torn from the grey and physically hurtled toward Rudolphus, smashing into the glass, completely visible.

"Tamblin," Cascata screamed.

"Imperio."

It was like being lost in the grey; a feeling of endless freedom filled Tamblin. There were no worries, no problems, just a simple floating acquiescence. He felt his body stand up in response to the voice in his head. The voice said he was to follow the man. He could do that. No problem. The man was going to let him out of the cell. That sounded nice. Voldemort wanted to chat, and that sounded terrific.

"Stupefy," a thin voice said and a red jet of light struck Rudolphus from behind. The voice in Tamblin's head vanished suddenly. Rudolphus staggered against the cell but did not fall. As he started to turn towards his attacker Tamblin reached through a hole in the cell wall and grabbed his wand hand. He wasn't strong enough to keep Rudolphus from tearing free but the delay gave the attacker time to cast another stunner, and this time the Death Eater did collapse.

A disheveled girl in Hogwarts robes walked gingerly towards the cell.

"Luna," Tamblin gaped.

"A brain tried to eat Ronald," she said dreamily.


	89. Chapter 89

"Luna, what are you doing here? Never mind," he said as the spacey Ravenclaw started to open her mouth. "Can you get us out of here?"

She started to nod, and then stopped and noticed the sooty remains of Catarhein on the floor. She bent closer to the cell and squinted at Tamblin. Then she turned so she was squinting at him from the corner of her eye.

"Luna, we don't have time for this."

"Dad says the ministry keeps Heliopaths in the Department of Mysteries. They're fire demons that look human when you look right at them. But maybe you already knew that..."

"I'm not a Heliopath, Luna!"

"That's what they usually say, at least if they are talking to me. I suppose when they talk to other people they use that person's name. Then they burn you up, unless you do what Fudge says and then they leave you alone."

"Luna, please! We have to get out of here."

Cascata spoke up, "He's telling the truth, we've been kept prisoner here by the Ministry. They've been performing all kinds of terrible tests on Tamblin."

Luna stared at her with a dreamy expression that could mean anything.

"Well, that does sound like the Ministry..."

"Yes, yes, so you'll help us escape-" Cascata started.

"But Heliopaths are usually kept near Drizzbulls, since Drizzbulls can put out fires. And Drizzbulls are notorious liars. Can you touch your tongue to your nose?"

"What?" Cascata said.

"Like this," Luna said and she contorted her face so that her tongue barely touched her nose.

Cascata looked at Tamblin exasperated.

Rudolphus was starting to make noises like he was recovering already. His stamina, at least, was to be admired.

"Better do it, Cascata."

Cascata scrunched up her face and managed to touch her tongue to her nose. "There, I did it."

Luna nodded. "Yes, that's what Drizzbulls do, all right."

"Gah!" Cascata yelled.

"I can't trust a Drizzbull," Luna said.

"But _you_ can do it too," Tamblin pointed out.

"Oh, yeah! I hadn't thought of that." She looked seriously at Tamblin. "You better not trust me either."

Cascata slapped her forehead with one hand. "I thought Ravenclaws were smart," she muttered.

Luna started to walk away. Tamblin shouted in desperation "I kiss strange girls! Remember? You told me that at the Ravenclaw table last year. I kiss strange girls."

"I did say that. It sounds like something I'd say, but only to someone who kissed strange girls and Heliopaths don't kiss at all because they're made of fire. Tamblin?"

"Yes. It's me. Please help, Luna."

She nodded. "All right, I'll get you out..."

She started back towards Tamblin.

"... but don't trust the Drizzbull over there," she said and pointed at Cascata.


	90. Chapter 90

One surprisingly effective Reducto spell later, Tamblin was free. He convinced Luna that they'd take Cascata with them so they'd have evidence that the Ministry was keeping Heilopaths, because what other reason would they have for holding a Drizzbull?

Tamblin seized the Death Eater's wands, and stunned Rudolphus again for good measure. He gave Catarhein's wand to Cascata while Luna was too busy playing with some of the instruments on the desk to notice. Cascata seized Tamblins arm. He touched her cheek.

"We have to go," he whispered and she nodded.

They moved through to the adjoining room, which Tamblin was chilled to see was set up with what looked very much to be an operating table.

"How do we get out?" Cascata asked.

"I'm not really sure," Luna said before squinting again at Cascata. "I bumped my head back in the brain room."

"Where's the brain room?" Tamblin asked.

"I don't remember, I think I was kind of out of it. Strange experience, really," she said dazedly. Tamblin and Cascata exchanged glances.

There were three doors out of the testing room, but Tamblin had never been taken through any of them. Two were situated on the left hand wall, and the last was opposite the door to the room with the cells. They tried the nearer rooms first and found one set up as an office and the other as a smaller laboratory of some kind.

In the lab Tamblin and Cascata grabbed lab robes, white with pockets like the one Gilbert typically wore. The simple clothes they had been given while imprisoned had no pockets. More importantly, on one side of the lab was a device that looked like a measuring scale but with only one cup to hold an object. Resting on that cup was Cascata's wand. Nearby they found Tamblin's bloodwand as well. Tamblin was grateful; the Death Eater's wand felt somehow wrong in his hands. It seemed a malignant thing, and he almost expected it to twist around and attack him like a snake. Cascata probably felt similarly because she was about to break Catarhein's wand when Tamblin stopped her. She sent him a questioning look as he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped up both Death Eater wands in it. He placed the towel in a robe pocket.

As they emerged into the testing room again a large shape burst through the door they had not yet tried.

Tamblin and Cascata pointed their wands.

A deep voice said, "Put the wands down."

"I've had enough of the Ministry's hospitality, Kingsley," Tamblin said bitterly.

The large Auror advanced slowly. His robes were torn and he bled freely from his left shoulder but his right hand held his wand steadily in front of him.


	91. Chapter 91

"Step away from them, Ms. Lovegood," Shacklebolt said.

Luna gasped, her eyes flying wide and she backed away from Tamblin. "He _is_ a Heliopath!"

Shacklebolt's brow creased, "What?"

"I'm not going through all that again, " Cascata said venomously.

"Put the wands down. Tamblin, Ms. Vega... do it now."

"Why don't you lower your wand, Kingsley?"

Cascata had been trying to edge around to one side and Shacklebolt moved to cut her off before she could circle around behind him.

"We saved your life in Hogsmeade, Tamblin, and this is how you repay us," Shacklebolt said.

Cascata straightened slightly. "What are you talking about?"

"It wasn't the Ministry that saved me in Hogsmeade, Kingsley. It was-" but he stopped before he revealed that Dumbledore had a secret organization to the Auror.

"I really didn't think you'd go over to the other side, Tamblin. I thought you were smarter than your father."

"What are you talking about?" Cascata demanded again.

"I know you didn't come here with the Order and you aren't part of the DA. That rather narrows the choices. I'd rather not hurt you; maybe the Death Eaters controlled you. Surrender now!"

"I'm not going back into the Ministry's clutches, Shacklebolt. Stand aside or I _will_ go through you."

Tamblin's grip tightened on his wand. He thought he'd wasted quite enough time on the Ministry fool. Just as he was about to attack the door Kingsley had come through burst open again. Two men in dark robes ran through the door and dove to either side as several spells flew past. When they realized the room was not empty they threw spells everywhere.

Tamblin and Cascata ducked, Luna watched calmly as spells struck to either side of her and Kingsley deflected a spell that came for him, sending it crashing into the ceiling.

Tamblin thought he recognized the two intruders as Mulciber and Mcnair, both Death Eaters. He tried to use Expelliarmus on Mcnair, but the man was ready and brushed his spell aside. Tamblin threw himself flat as a line of spells impacted on the stone behind him. Kingsley was busy blocking Mulciber, who was using the same blue beam Karkaroff had once used. The spell left glowing red tracks in the stone walls as Kingsley's shield spell bounced it away.

Mcnair was advancing on Tamblin when Cascata flicked her wand towards the trays of dissection tools. The various sharp implements flew like a wind of razor blades at Mcnair, who covered his face with his arms. He screamed out. Many of the tools had cut him in passing, and one long handled implement had embedded itself in his left arm. While he tried to pull it out Tamblin hit him from one side with Expelliarmus, even as Cascata stunned him from the other side.

Tamblin looked over to find that Kingsley had one hand around Mulciber's wrist and the other around his throat. He was holding the far smaller Death Eater up against the wall and while making sure the wand pointed at nobody. With a powerful movement he pulled Mulciber away from the wall and slammed him back- hard. The Death Eater went limp, dropping his wand. Kingsley's own wand lay some feet away. As he turned to retrieve it Tamblin stepped forward, wand up.

"Don't."

Kingsley looked over at Mcnair and was surprised to see him unconscious. A confused look crossed his face.

Another couple of red jets flew through the doorway and then a young woman with bright pink hair peeked through cautiously. When she saw both Death Eaters were crumpled on the ground she glanced down at her own wand with an impressed look on her face. Only then did she notice the others in the room. Luna was still standing at one end of the room looking thoughtful. Cascata was standing over Mcnair with her wand pointed at the man, although he did not look like he was even close to conscious. Tamblin was standing with his wand pointed at Kingsley's heart.

"Oh, hey kid, it's you," the woman said, obviously to Tamblin although he didn't know who she was. "Uh, why are you pointing a wand at Kingsley?"

"Who are you?" Tamblin demanded. He didn't dare take his eyes off Kingsley. The man was awfully fast for his size.

"It's me, Tonks. Oh yeah, I looked like this last time," Tamblin risked a glance over and saw the woman from the Three Broomsticks, the one who had saved him from Malfoy.

Tamblin started backing up towards her. "I can't stay here, Tonks, I have to get away."

"Tonks, he may be with the Death Eaters," Kingsley said.

"We just took out this guy," Cascata said, kicking Mcnair who groaned slightly.

"It could be a trick to get our guard down," Kingsley warned.

"We were kidnapped by the Ministry," Cascata said furiously. "They held us here for weeks. They were going to cut Tamblin to pieces on that table right there!" She pointed at the center of the room. Kingsley seemed to really take in the contents of the room for the first time.

"We were told they were missing," Tonks said.

"Maybe they were being held by the Death Eaters," Kingsley countered. "Maybe they are under the Imperius right now. Tamblin, you know you can trust Tonks. Surrender your wand to her."

"How do I know she isn't being controlled," Tamblin said. He had been backing towards her, but now he moved to try and watch both.

Tonks protested "I'm not being controlled, you can trust me."

"Just don't trust the Drizzbull," came Luna's floating voice.

Everyone turned to look at the girl.

"Luna," Cascata said, "you can tell them. Tell them where you found us. Tell them how you found us."

Everyone looked at Luna but she was squinting at Cascata.

"Miss Lovegood," Kingsley said, "you found them here?"

Luna tried squinting at Cascata another moment and then nodded her head. "Found them in there. In these glass boxes they'd been living in. They should have thrown stones,' she said, and giggled.

"What about them," Tamblin said. "Luna, do you know what Shacklebolt and Tonks are doing here?"

"Hmmm. No. But they did rescue a bunch of us from Death Eaters, which means they can't be working for Fudge. But you shouldn't trust me, I might be a Drizzbull," she said and stuck her tongue to he nose.

There was a pause and then Tonks clearly said "I think we can rule out the Death Eaters controlling her mind."

Slowly Tamblin lowered his wand.


	92. Chapter 92

"We have to get out of here," Tamblin said.

Kingsley nodded as he repaired his cloak so as to conceal his wounded shoulder. "We should head for the Atrium and get you through the flue network."

"We might not want to go that way," Tonks said. "Dumbledore headed up there, and he looked in an awful hurry. These two," she pointed towards Mulciber and Mcnair, "made a break for it as soon as he left."

"I don't see another option," Kingsley said. "If the Ministry has been holding them here we've got to get them away while things are still chaotic."

Tamblin grabbed Cascata's hand. "I can hide the two of us, at least from most people. You lead the way and we'll follow."

Kingsley looked at Tonks who shrugged.

"All right," he said.

"Good plan," said Luna.

"Oh, Tonks," Tamblin said, "Rudolphus Lestrange is in the next room, hopefully still stunned."

She winked in response.

"Let's go, Kingsley," Tamblin said.


	93. Chapter 93

Tamblin concentrated to extend his power to conceal Cascata. As with the attempt last year, he could feel that the effect was much weaker than if he had been alone.

They made their way through several strange rooms of the Department of Mysteries. They passed by a large group who were holding a number of people Tamblin recognized as Death Eaters prisoner in a room with long stone steps leading to a dais. Shacklebolt several times had to stop and consider his path.

"I don't work down here," he whispered at them defensively.

Kingsley led them to a grilled elevator. As they took the elevator up Cascata took the opportunity to hug Tamblin tightly. She was shaking slightly. As the lift got higher they began to hear the noise of a great many people all speaking at once. The din got louder as the lift finally clanged to a stop and the doors opened on an atrium filled with milling wizards and witches.

The place was a shambles, the floor littered with pieces of golden statuary, soot covered employees bursting in from all the fireplaces along one side of the hall. Everywhere were people staring in bewilderment and commenting on the apparent appearance of both Dumbledore and Voldemort in this very room. Kingsley's large form broke them a path through the crowd.

Tamblin saw Fudge at one point and started to pull away towards him but Cascata held him back.

"Not now," she hissed. Tamblin grit his teeth but she was right, he'd have to see to the Minister later.

They neared the rows of fireplaces. They moved away from the side where people continued to arrive towards the opposite side which was apparently for departures.

"I'll throw in the flue powder," Kingsley hissed, "then Ms Vega goes through, quickly. Then Tamblin. I'll try to block anyone from seeing, then go through myself."

"Where do we go," Cascata asked.

"For now go to Quality Quidditch Supplies. There's a small hearth in the back of the store. From there I'll take you to the school," Kingsley said.

But as the Auror thew a handful of Flue powder into the fire a voice called out, "Shacklebolt!"

Cornelius Fudge was pressing towards Kingsley and waving an arm at him. Kingsley tried to interpose himself between the Minister and Tamblin and Cascata, but since he didn't exactly know where they were himself it was difficult.

Tamblin was so fixated on Fudge that it took him a moment to realize another person was following in Fudge's wake. He looked into Amelia Bones' eyes and felt sure she was looking right back at him.

"Shacklebolt," Fudge exclaimed, "Where are you going? Forget about Sirius Black, the Dark Lord was _here_. Here in this very room! I need all the Aurors to get started on this at once. I- we are all in terrible danger."

"Minister, I-" but Kingsley stopped, apparently unable to think of an excuse.

"Shacklebolt, what are you still doing here?" Madam Bones said as she caught up to the Minister.

"I was-"

"I want the package you carry delivered to my house immediately," she said in a brittle tone. When Shacklebolt didn't respond she added, " _Get going_."

Fudge looked back and forth. "Package? What? Where's he going?"

Madam Bones regarded the Minister coolly. "Surely, Minister, you have more important things to do, right now, than to micromanage my department? I dare say your leadership is needed by the whole Ministry, if not the whole country. My people will just have to muddle through on my own directives."

Shacklebolt threw a handful of powder into the flames.

"Shacklebolt, a moment if you will," Madam Bones said. She and Kingsley stood side by side facing the hall. She held her hands behind her back and made a brushing off motion with them. Tamblin assumed it was a signal for them to go. He pushed Cascata towards the flames. She whispered something and disappeared. Tamblin waited half a second and then stepped in himself.

"The rear hearth of Quality Quidditch Supplies," he whispered and was swallowed in flames.


	94. Chapter 94

A tired looking elderly shop keeper waited at the other end of the ride. He seemed more bemused than concerned about his unexpected visitors. When Kingsley arrived the two hugged and Tamblin could see some family resemblance between the men.

Kingsley introduced the man as Rothren, whom he asked to keep secret about this visit. The old man looked almost insulted that Kingsley thought he had to ask.

Rothren disappeared for a bit and brought back a few sandwiches, commenting that Kingsley looked scrawny. Cascata and Tamblin each eagerly took a sandwich.

As they ate Kingsley appeared pensive.

"What are you thinking," Tamblin asked.

"Bones. I think she knew you were there."

Tamblin nodded. "I'm sure of it, she looked right at me."

"She wanted me to take you to her house," Kingsley said simply.

"Might be a better idea than heading back to the school," Tamblin said.

"I'm not sure," Kingsley said.

Cascata piped up, "You don't trust her?"

"I trust her implicitly to follow the law, but she can be _rigid_ in that pursuit," Kingsley said.

Tamblin's eyes narrowed. "She's not part of Dumbledore's secret group, then?"

"Secret group-" Cascata began.

"I'll tell you later," Tamlin said and turned back to Kinglsey.

"No, she's not," Kingsley said. "She wouldn't approve."

Tamlin thought a bit while chewing his sandwich.

"Probably still our best bet. I was thinking we'd go back to Hogwarts, but as long as Umbridge is there it won't be safe. I trust Ms. Bones to be fair," Tamblin said.

Kingsley shrugged. "I leave it up to you."


	95. Chapter 95

Fudge stormed into his office, ignoring his secretary's protests that he had a long list of people wanting to see him. He'd looked at the people waiting outside his office and didn't like what he saw. He'd been enormously busy since the night that Voldemort showed up, and had seen many dozens of people, mostly to reassure them that the Ministry was on top of the matter and that there was nothing to worry about. _This_ lot didn't look like they wanted reassurance.

The Minister looked down at his desk, which was covered with far more work than he liked. There was so much to do now. Rather than start he flopped down in his high-backed chair and turned to face the windows. The office was, of course, underground but it still had a nice large window through which he seemed to look out on a countryside dominated by soft hills covered in grasses and clovers.

With a loud and pitying sigh he turned back to the desk-

-and found Tamblin staring at him as he leaned over it from the opposite side.

The Minister made a sort of yelping sound and leapt free from his chair. One hand went to his suit pocket but came out empty. Tamblin held up the minister's wand.

"I took the liberty, Cornelius."

Fudge's face tried to both go pale and bright red at the same time and ended up a sort of frustrated purple.

"What is the meaning of this? How dare you invade my office and steal my wand! I'll have you arrested. I'll have you thrown in Azkaban..."

"You'll have me kidnapped and held in the Department of Mysteries to be tortured and eventually killed?"

Fudge's eyes got very wide. He tried to feign a look of ignorance.

"Enough, Fudge. It is time for you to be political."

"What do you mean?" the Minister cried.

"You bet against Dumbledore and lost, Fudge."

"Address me by my title: Minister," Fudge blustered.

"That's not a title you're likely to keep much longer; a few weeks, maybe a month at the outside. That's the price you will pay for losing against Dumbledore. But you also bet against me, Fudge. Time to decide what the cost of that will be."

Fudge swallowed. "What is it you want?"

Tamblin tossed several folded pieces of parchment at the minister that he took from within his robe. Fudge fumbled with one.

"What is this?"

"You're going to amend Ministry records to reflect those OWL scores."

"You want me to forge grades for you and Ms. Vega?"

"And others, make sure you get them all."

"It's outrageous!"

Tamblin shrugged. "We missed our exams because of the Ministry, seems only fair actually."

Fudge glared at him. "Fine, you get your grades."

"Oh, we're not close to done yet, Fudge. Next- I want every scrap of data that the Ministry has on me, my family, and, most especially, my gift. All of it, including everything in the Department of Mysteries."

Fudge looked flabbergasted.

Tamblin cocked his head thoughtfully. "How many years in Azkaban do you suppose you'd get for conspiring to kidnap two children, abuse them, and plan to murder one if not both? I'm really not sure, though I suppose we could call Madam Bones down here for an expert opinion."

"This is blackmail," Fudge protested weakly.

Tamblin paused a moment to think. "I suppose it is, but to be sure why don't we ask the people in your waiting room?"

Fudge sent a suspicious glare at the office door. "They're with you?"

"Lawyers. Yes, every last one of them is with me. So if you really want to make this a legal matter let's call them in here..."

"No- no! As you said, it is time to be political."

Tamblin smiled. "Good. Just two more things, then."

"Two more! No- fine tell me," Fudge said as Tamblin started to walk to the door.

"You'll announce an ethics investigation into the actions of certain individuals as a result of evidence that came to light from the night Death Eaters broke in. The result of the investigation will be that the Unspeakable Gilbert will be discharged from service with a recommendation that the Department of Magical Law Enforcement press charges against him. The Unspeakable Garrant will be given a one month suspension for failing to inform you that the head researcher was out of control, and then allowed to come back to work."

"And I suppose you'd like to dictate the results of the criminal case against Gilbert?"

"No, I trust in Madam Bones to conduct a fair trial in the matter," Tamblin said coolly.

Fudge protested, "I can't reveal what Gilbert did without implicating myself."

"There are plenty of previous crimes on his part that you can use as pretext. Trust me, I know. Pick one. Pick six if you like. You can deny any knowledge of what was happening based on the legendary secrecy of the department."

"What's the last thing," Fudge grumbled.

"Well the last is really just an insurance policy. In a week you and I will meet someplace private. At that point you'll bring all the data I requested and inform me on the grades being corrected and the status of the disciplinary actions at the Department of Mysteries."

Fudge looked suspicious. "That's it?"

"And you'll confirm it all under Veritaserum."

Fudge became livid. "How dare you! I-"

Tamblin cut him off. "I confirmed my testimony to you, two years ago under Veritaserum. Now it's your turn, Minister. Don't worry, I'll bring the potion this time."

"I refuse," Fudge said stiffly. "Try taking your case to court. Do you think they'll believe you- the son of a Death Eater- over me and other high ranking members of the Ministry? I don't care how many bloody lawyers you bring!"

Tamblin sighed. "I see." He held up Fudge's wand. "I am sorry I had to steal this from you, Minister." Tamblin started to hand it back. Fudge looked surprised for a moment and then his face turned positively gleeful. The Minister started to take the wand but Tamblin didn't let go of the handle. "Something occurs to me Minister... When was the last time you checked to make sure you had your wand?"

Fudge looked confused.

"I mean before this morning, of course. Not sure? You mean you don't know how long I might have had it?" Tamblin made a "hrmph" sound.

"What are you trying to say?"

"I guess I'm just thinking that this wand right here could have been used to cast anything really. An unforgivable curse, summoning the Dark Mark, anything. I can imagine some people would worry about what had been done with their wand."

Tamblin let go of the handle. Fudge stared at him a moment and then looked down at his hand where he held his own wand, tip first. He dropped the wand on the desk and pulled his hand back as if it had been hot.

"It's up to you, Minister. You can have a relatively comfortable, if slightly shameful, retirement, or a long long stay in Azkaban. I suspect I can put you there for your actual crimes, seeing as Dumbledore is the Chief Warlock again. If that should fail I'll be more creative, but _you will rot_ as a guest of the Dementors, I promise you."

"You're bluffing," Fudge said quietly.

"Tell me, Minister, did you give Gilbert permission to cut me apart?"

Fudge said nothing.

"I think you did, or would have, so long as you didn't have to do it yourself. As I see it you treated my murder as a form to be initialed. Now do you really think I'm bluffing?"

Fudge seemed to sense of the first time just how angry Tamblin was. His voice came out as a croak, "The grades... and the disciplinary actions... and the information..."

Tamblin nodded. "And the Veritaserum, Minister."

Fudge collapsed into his chair and nodded.

"Excellent, Minister. I'll send you an owl to arrange the meet. One week; you have a lot to do, I suggest you get started right away." Tamblin looked over the Minister's shoulder. "Nice view, by the way."


	96. Chapter 96

Tamblin faced the crowd in the Minister's waiting room. He nodded towards the door. Most of the solicitors waiting began filing out of the room. Tamlin's chief solicitor, Anit Chasseur, stayed behind. He fell into step beside Tamblin as they made their way out of the Ministry.

The lawyer was short and thick-bodied, with a face that superficially suggested a paternal or even grandfatherly appearance, a well receded hairline, and the remaining hair greyed. His oval face pinched his eyes between a generous nose and a wide forehead. The eyes were protected from seeming beady by a pair of glasses that magnified them slightly. A bushy mustache more than covered the top lip and tended to puff out slightly when he spoke.

"Everything satisfactory?" Chasseur asked surreptitiously.

"For now. We'll see if Fudge follows through."

The lawyer spoke carefully, "naturally I have no knowledge of any arrangements between you and the Minister which might be compromising or even illegal. I am just asking about your day."

"Of course," Tamblin said and stumbled slightly as the lawyer patted him on the back.

"I do have a question about the Death Eater issue."

"Yes?"

"With most of the principle people of interest now incarcerated, as a result of the events in the Department of Mysteries, should we suspend operations? Your family portfolios have taken significant losses in trying to ruin the Death Eaters."

Tamblin thought about it.

"It might be advantageous to suspend activities for a bit. We can take the time replenish resources, and may fool them into thinking we have given up."

Chasseur pursed his lips. "You wish an interlude or lull, rather than a cessation of hostility. Very well."

"Your tone suggests you don't approve," Tamblin said.

"Not my place to approve or not. I have worked for your family since well before you were born. I would like to continue that role until I am ready to retire."

"You are worried that I'll destroy the family, Anit?"

"This is a dangerous path, Tamblin. He Who Must Not Be Named is known to have returned. You are too young to remember the last time, but I would strongly caution you to consider the virtues of neutrality."

Tamblin considered his solicitor's words. He shook his head.

"Vlora would surely agree with you, but the Death Eater's crimes against me cannot be forgiven. The Demosthenes are committed now."


End file.
